Assassin's Creed: Resurrection
by NanoBlade
Summary: Arendelle is in ruins. King Hans and the Templars have claimed the crown. Only oppression and despair remain for the people of this great land. But there are talks. Whispers in the back alleys... The White Reaper has returned. Returned with a vengeance, armed with the skills of the Assassins, determined to restore his family to the throne, and destroy the Templars once and for all.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Prologue

* * *

 _February 1789_

The air bit and howled like a mad wolf. Though not nearly as deeply or treacherous as a real one. The Hunter knew what that had felt like.

The carriage was now lopsided. Looking down at the wheel, sunk in the mud, he angrily looked back on his error. He thought the ice filling the dip in the road was thick enough to hold his entire load, but seeing as it was now sunk so far in, that was clearly not the case. He cursed gently to himself, before turning his view to the way that he had come, leaning against the wall of the carriage. In peeling painted letters, the sign on the side of the carriage read "Rictavio's Carnival of Wonders". Around his feet, The Hunter could see mists as tall as two feet gather on the ground. He grabbed a bit of his black leather coattail, and wagged them away; he had seen enough mists of that kind for a lifetime.

It had been just after the Solstice when he arrived in the town. Almost a moon and a half ago. He was leagues from the coast, and the people of the town said that it would be a long journey westward, as well as North if he meant to find his destination.

Some looked at him as though he was a demon when he arrived in town that night. It may have been the scar, deep into his face and still fresh after a few months, running up the length of his cheeks and over his right eye to turn it a sickly red and white. But they looked upon him with even more judgement when he told them where he was heading.

He hadn't been given much to act on when he started the next chapter of his Odyssey. All that he was given was the name of a kingdom he was to come to: Arendelle. That, however, had been enough for him to go all this way. He had to find him. He had to _kill_ him.

But there had been a sort of coup or invasion that had occurred months before he arrived. Their queen and princess were now dead, and the Princess' husband from the Southern Isles now sat the throne. Those of the village spoke of him with kindness. Years ago, he had fought tirelessly to save them from a terrible snow that had come in the summertime. He had earned their trust, and they saw a true king in him.

It might have been with this King Hans that The Hunter was needed. All he had been given was the name of the realm, and now he was on his way there, with the harshest winter that he had ever felt in his life.

The cold was reaching his fingers. He folded them together as if in prayer, his hands clutching each other to cling to their own warmth. He slowly blew into them, then rubbed them together. The sun had been down for hours, and now he would need some light.

Walking back to the front of his carriage, he heard Drucilla whicker quietly. Steam rose high from the snout of his companion, as he pulled the torches and tinderbox from under the seat on the carriage.

"I know it's cold, girl." He said. "But we gotta keep goin'."

She replied with another whicker.

"Get us another league or so after I get this bastard out of the muck, and I'll give you a whole sackful of apples." He replied, still looking down at the torches as he flipped open the lid to the box.

They had only been with each other for six months, after the old man had been killed. But The Hunter always seemed to know exactly what she meant to say. It surprised even himself, who could no longer feel the touch of fear, or who showed no real gift with animals before.

He looked through with the tools in the box, taking out the dagger, flintstone, and twigs. The carriage lurched lightly as he did this.

"Settle down back there." He whispered, knocking on the wall of the carriage as he took the torch out.

He tried to light the torch. But it wasn't until a few minutes of trying had passed that he realized the flint was too wet. It had gathered frost since he had left the village three days ago, and now it had caused whatever potential sparks it could have brought up to be snuffed out for the time being.

"Oh, for feck's sake..." He snapped, dryly.

He felt the frustration hit him hard, but then he got an idea. He hadn't tried it before, but it might work. He leaned out from the carriage, looking up and down the road. Nothing to be able to see through the mists. Arendelle was still leagues away, and he had not come across any other soul going the other way. No one would notice. Would anyone even care here if they did?

He took the dagger out, and laid the torch down, he stuck his thumb out right above the torch, and began to chant.

" _Thrak avhe zajar ro deaavh_." He said, closing his eyes, and feeling the grasp of the darkness around him.

He slid the dagger over the tip of his thumb. Crimson blood began to flow out from the prick he gave himself, and he let it drip down onto the torch. In amazement, he watched as the torch instantly caught up, and began to burn brightly. The shadows that had begun to amplify around him suddenly receeded.

"Why didn't I think of that before?" He chuckled, picking up the torch, and sliding it into the sconce beside his seat.

The carriage suddenly lurched even more than before. Frustrated, The Hunter grabbed the torch and jumped back out onto the road.

"I told you to settle down back there, boy!" He snarled. "I'd let you out if I could, but in this realm, I doubt you'd let us get on with the whole 'element of surprise' shit. You'd look more in place in Chult!"

The carriage stopped lurching for a moment, and The Hunter could only hear the growling.

"We still got a long road ahead of us, and I can't have you running about around here. I'm sorry, but it's gotta be this way."

Suddenly, The Hunter began to hear something. The clopping of hooves. Creaking of wheels, and a pair of voices to go with it.

"Settle your arse down in there, alright?" He said. "I gotta go see if they can help."

Walking out onto the road, he raised his torch high.

"Halloooo!" He called. "Help for a fellow traveller?"

The other carriage was coming toward him, heading southwards. Someone who sat atop it raised a torch as well.

"Are you friend? Or foe?" A voice called.

The Hunter nodded. "I would like to think that I am a friend! I seem to have gotten into a bit of trouble here. My wheel's stuck in the mud and I need help lifting it out."

There was low murmuring from the one who held the torch, as The Hunter could see him lean over to another figure on the cart, in the mist.

"Are you armed?" The other's voice called.

The Hunter nodded, then realized that they likely wouldn't see that. "Aye. Only my crossbow and sword." He lied. They need not know about the rest.

The cart pulled closer and closer in the fog. Before long, The Hunter saw the strangers. They were two men in thick winter clothes, one unshaven and unkempt with thick brown hair and a beard. The other had a lot less hair, but had dirt all over his face.

The Hunter was about to walk for their cart to ask for help, when the bearded one, who was without the torch, drew a rifle at him.

The Hunter raised his hands, dropping the torch to the ground. "There will be no need for that!" He cried, trying to fake any sort of fear in his voice. He felt it once before. How could it be so hard to feel it, now? Was it his journey through the Mists of Dread? Had they given him some sort of unholy shield?

"You're armed." The rifle man said. "That means you're a bandit. They're all over these roads since the Southerner prick took the throne! They're thriving out here."

The Hunter looked around the forest. It was dark, and cold, and nowhere near harvest time for any realm, or even this one. He had been heading North all this time, and it was only getting colder with each passing hour.

"Who the fuck could thrive all the way out here?" He asked, still with his hands raised.

"My apologies, sir." The torch man said, putting his hand on his companion's rifle, pushing it down. "We've only been able to squeak by three gangs on our way South. The last thing we need is to be set upon by anyone. We just mean to get as far South as we can. Corona, or even further."

The Hunter nodded. "Aye. Drucilla and I have our headin', too." He nodded to his horse. "I just mean to get to my destination as soon as I can, and the bloody carriage has gotten stuck in the mud."

"Certainly." Said the torch man. "Lorris and I can help."

"Throw your weapons away." The other snapped, raising his rifle again.

The Hunter expected such an order, and did so without hesitation. They were still green. Maybe they had killed before, but not another human. They were green as spring grass. He could smell it on them. If they tried to kill him, he would show them true agony.

They both jumped from their cart, the torch man still holding the torch to lead them through the mist and frost. The Hunter led them around his carriage to the wheel stuck in the mud.

"This carriage is old, too." He admitted. "I just had it remade on the inside, but the outside could use some work, too."

"Aye." Said the torch man, looking up. Lorris kept his rifle out, clearly on edge. "And a new paint job while you're at it."

"Hey!" Lorris snapped. "I said throw your weapons away! What is that?"

With the barrel of his rifle, he poked at the artifact on The Hunter's belt: A tarnished platinum sword hilt, with a sapphire of deep blue set into it's crossguard. A loop at the pommel let it easily strap it to his belt. There was no blade present.

The Hunter looked down at it. "It's a sword hilt. There's no blade to be found on it. Can't hurt anyone." Another lie.

The torch man raised his hand. "Lorris, enough. He's thrown all his weapons down." He looked back up at the sign. "Yeah, this carriage is missing a bit of Tender Loving Care."

The Hunter understood what he meant, with all the peeling and chipping that had happened to it. It did need some work, but that gave the carriage part of it's camouflage. No one would give it a second look with the state that it was in; old, but not enough to warrant judgemental glares to a negligible owner.

Lorris held tight to his rifle, opting to help push the carriage from behind while The Hunter and the torch man lifted it. With three sets of hands pushing the carriage out, it was done much easier and faster than they could have imagined. The Hunter was even more pleased that there were no noises coming from inside.

"So where are you headed, Mr. Rictavio?" The torch man asked.

The Hunter slapped his hands on his trousers, brushing off the dirt. "Eh?" He asked.

"Rictavio? That is your name, right?" He pointed up at the sign.

The Hunter shook his head. "No, it's not, actually. He was the previous owner of the carriage. Left it and Drucilla to me before he died."

"Ahh." The torch man said. "So, what can I call you?"

The Hunter hesitated for a moment. It would be dangerous to use his name if it was the wrong person. He had seen what the demon he had followed here was capable of. What if he was listening to the conversation that he was having with these two travellers?

He shrugged to himself. If he was, he would know that he was here. But that's what he wanted, didn't he? He had lured The Hunter here, after all.

"Thayer." He said. "Lord Thayer of Dupree."

"Milord." The man suddenly said, giving a bow.

"Enough of that." He said. "No one's under any obligation to bow to me outside my lands."

Lorris suddenly raised his rifle again. "He's a fucking noble?! He's in league with Hans!"

The Hunter raised his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about!" He cried. "I am only coming to Arendelle to meet with him!"

The torch man stood between them. "My apologies. But as long as you promise to let us go, there will be no trouble."

The Hunter nodded. "Aye! Of course! What sort of trouble?"

If they were running from this King Hans, he could grab them and throw them in the carriage. Fetch a good bounty on them and make a friend with the King. But why were they even running from him in the first place?

"My name is Ivan." The torch man said. "This is Lorris. And well… there has been an incident involving people like us. We were welcome under the reign of Queen Elsa and her sister, but with them dead, and Prince Hans taking the crown, he's labelled us… undesirable."

The Hunter eyed the two of them with suspicion. What was undesirable about them? Why were they unwelcome? He had to really look closely at them and what made them different. But it wasn't until he saw a look that the two of them gave each other in a split second that he realized exactly what it meant.

That sort of desire that their kind had was widely accepted in the part of the world he came from. It seemed beyond him why anyone else would call it "undesirable". People loved who they loved. Nothing could change that, even if others said it was a choice they made.

"We're hoping to reach Corona before long. Lorris and I just barely escaped a group of soldiers sent to take us away, so forgive him for being on edge."

The Hunter nodded. "I have no quarrel with you." He agreed, changing his mind. He would have a thing or two to talk to the King about when the time was right. "If you leave me be, I'll do the same."

Ivan raised his hand and covered the barrel to Lorris' rifle. The Hunter felt some bit of relief to come back to him as he lowered it.

"This is not how we wanted everything to go. We honestly thought we were far away enough from Arendelle that none of Hans' people would come for us. But we're still within the boundaries of the kingdom."

"So, how far away am I from the town?"

"You're looking at another two days of riding, friend." Ivan said, pointing down the road. "Just keep heading in the direction you were going in."

Lorris grabbed The Hunter's weapons and passed them back to him. "Sorry. We've had too many close calls."

The Hunter could sense it on them. They reeked of the fear. Despite how far they were from the King, they still had a long way to go. He had a way to get them away even further, even faster. But he needed that gem to go home. He needed it, and that negated any and all reason to help them any further than letting them go.

"I respect that." He replied. "You're right to be on edge if there are bandits in these woods. Why would they be coming out if this King Hans has been pressing the law hard on folks like you?"

Lorris looked at Ivan. "It's because we're… different. That makes us unworthy of his love and care, while the rich and powerful can live in peace. Meanwhile, bandits are finding that their days of looting and pillaging have become a lot easier with the Southern Isle forces in occupation here."

Ivan nodded. "It was no secret the prince shits let crime and scum thrive under the guidance of King Elias. But from what we hear, it's only gotten worse down there. Some parts of the kingdom are under complete and total control, while others are where laws and gods mean next to nothing. No man's lands."

The Hunter began to take note of this. He was not going to approach this King without understanding all the dirt on him. It was just as important that he knew what the public thought of him.

"You're a lord, and a white one at that. You'd fit right into the asshole's court. As for us, we're running." Lorris said. "And it would be in all of our interests that this meeting never happened."

With the kind of stuff that he was carrying in the carriage, The Hunter would have almost asked the same thing of them if they had even bothered to search it. But if they had, they would have been dead. Without them even knowing, they were the luckiest souls alive that evening.

"I never saw yah lads." He said. "Might as well get goin', then."

Lorris nodded, then he and Ivan headed down towards their cart, and took off, leaving The Hunter. Once again, alone in the misty woods.

But then something began to come out from the mist. Snow. And The Hunter knew that he had to find shelter for the night. Or at the very least, stop.

Instead of heading over to his seat at the front of the carriage, The Hunter took Drucilla and led her and the carriage off the road. He squinted his eyes, looking out into the mists before finally seeing some trees he could hide the carriage behind.

He stopped Drucilla right there, then headed for the back of the carriage.

"Stay calm, there." He called into the carriage. "It's only me. Getting some blankets for our girl."

Mitt stayed down on the ground, not a peep to be heard from him as The Hunter went into the carriage. Unlike the outside, the inside was very well furnished, and appeared to be much larger within. He was thankful that those enchantments had not been deactivated when he came to this land. That might have meant the defenses he had put in place were still there as well.

He had found wealth of a strange sort from his last journey. Spent a good part of it to redo the inside of the carriage. He was a Lord by birth. It was about time that his own home reflect that, even if the outside of it could not. Scarlet carpeting adorned much of the floor. His bed had been made specially with chicken feathers. Along every wall lay nearly every weapon that he had been taught how to wield, some of which he couldn't even pronounce their names right.

And the books. The books that contained just as much potential for danger and tragedy as his weapons. Some of his teachers from the Order had given him the books, but he had also found that the best of these books had come from the houses of his own prey. And if not, he had been writing journals to be able to be passed on to the other Hunters like him. Journals on how to kill the monsters that only he had seen within the Shadowlands.

The blankets were in Mitt's corner. While he had torn up a few of the cushions when they first started travelling together, The Hunter had him trained quick enough. That had let Mitt earn enough of his trust to let him near the silks. He grabbed few of the cotton quilts, then headed back out into the cold.

Drucilla was whinnying enough to tell The Hunter what was wrong. He patted her mane.

"Easy, love." He said. "I know it's cold. We just can't keep going tonight."

She looked at him, and he shrugged.

"Yes, yes, I said we were gonna hurry. But I didn't know it was going to take another two days for us to reach Arendelle."

He looked back down the direction the other two were going.

"I could have gotten a sizable reward if I took them in. We need this Hans on our side if we're going to find our little friend." He shook his head. "Ah. Something else will come up. We don't have enough to feed them, anyways."

There was a noise, suddenly. Drucilla whickered, startled by it.

The Hunter chuckled. "Sorry, girl. That was my stomach. Lemme go get supper."

He came back with three apples, carefully feeding each one out of his hand to her. Her tongue ran down the scar on his palm, which tickled much more than he was expecting it to hurt.

"Heh. The old man raised you well." He chuckled. "Even if he was a right old shite."

He threw the blankets over her. "You'll be okay. And tomorrow, we'll cut that two day journey down, and reach this King Hans."

He turned, headed down to the back of the carriage, and went inside, closing and barring the door behind him.

Mitt was obviously hoping for the steak the old man always gave him. But he had eaten the last one they had, this morning. All The Hunter was able to give him was some of the hard salt beef.

"That's all we got." He said, when he got the look from him.

He took a large handful of the salt beef and took it to his desk, munching on it as he sat at the desk. It was food meant for rations for soldiers on the battlefield. Yet, in a strange way, The Hunter actually liked it as much as a good chicken. It was cheap, but he could carry it easy enough, and it wouldn't go bad as fast with it being dried out as it was. He ate it all the time.

Truly, someone of his name and stature would have had much finer tastes. Much more desire for the finer things of life. But The Hunter had made several vows to himself the day he left Aeskrow Hold. He had seen what the desire, what the _hunger_ for fine things had gotten other people. The hunger for fine clothes, fine wine, everything to show one's social status only made the hunger feel more and more. Ironic, really. One could try to satisfy the hunger for the finer things. They could _try_. Oh, but that was not possible. It only makes the hunger deeper and bigger. He had known a life of luxury, a life of comfort before all of this. But he would turn his back on it because of what the hunger had done to his life. What it had done to his brothers and parents.

He had a few fine things. The carpeting, the gold that he had put into changing and decorating the carriage. But in fairness, it was more for function. When the old man had the carriage, it was only meant to carry Mitt and keep him out of harm's way. It was a rolling stable for the bastard. It was not something fit for anyone to live in with the kind of animal he now had living there with him.

Now it held many things to serve him. His arsenal of weapons lined the two walls on the sides of the inside of the carriage. The many books that he had gathered over the years on his prey took up a large shelf in it's own corner near his bed. Finally, his desk in the corner, where he wrote his findings and his journals. It was not a very eventful day, yet he had a routine that he hated breaking.

Brushing his coattail to his lap, he pulled up his chair, and sat at his desk. Taking out his phoenix feather quill, and inkwell, he took a fresh sheet of parchment and wrote.

* * *

" _Day 2324_

 _Still stuck on the road for the day. No settlements since the first town that I arrived in when I came through the portal._

 _The carriage had a bit of trouble with a muddy pothole, but I met two lovers on the road who helped me lift it out., before I stopped for the night. One of them was rightly on edge. Almost like he could smell the cursed blood that runs through me. The fear that came off of them reeked like a cow pie. He ordered me to throw my weapons aside. Both of them are lucky that they didn't catch me on a bad day."_

He paused, looking up at the wall in front of him. It was the only part of the carriage that held a blank space. He knew exactly what he wanted to hang there all this time, and would keep that space open for as long as it took to find the painting.

 _"_ _I don't even understand why he has led me here. He gave me the clues, and he gave me the keys. Now I hear that this King Hans has taken over the kingdom of Arendelle, which had been previously ruled by a Queen and her sister, neither of which he had any real relation to from what I have heard. Those he is claiming to be 'different' are now labelled as 'deviants'. I may just have to meet him if it means that he can lead me to the Devil. He knows. Somehow, someway, I know that he knows. And when he tells me where I can find him, then I will bring the end that this crusade has brought me for so long. Bring the end to my pain and suffering."_

* * *

He had his family name. He had the seal and the ring. But he never sealed any of these journal entries. As he realized in his first days with the Order, his family name didn't mean shit to them. He was simply Thayer to the rest of them.

Rubbing his eyes, he pulled his leather coat off, and slipped out of the leather armor he wore. Down to only his sweater and pants, he pulled his rings off as he climbed into bed, dropping each one into the bowl

His family's signet ring. The precious gold ring he had been holding onto for months. And finally the silver ring with the red cross, which labelled his allegiance to the Order.

He wished he could say that the last part of his nightly routine was the journal entries. But he had something else that he had to finish. Feeling under the lip of his nightstand, he found the switch which opened the secret door, letting him pull the book out.

He had many books on the kind of monsters he dealt with. But this one was one of unmatched rarity. It was written right in the hand of the last beast that he had killed. He had been dead for months, and yet, The Hunter felt the need to read the book over and over. Nothing that he had read in the book could truly see him understand the kind of hate and misery such a… thing was capable of. He was dead, but he had left behind so much death that The Hunter wondered if it would have made any difference to the people of that valley. He felt the need to try to understand what went on in the freak's head if he were to stop the next monster like him. But so far, all he could see was a cruel, tortured soul, even when the bastard was still among the living. He had found no answers, and he doubted he ever would. But if one monster gave him no solution to their enigma, then perhaps he could find one to the one he had been chasing his whole exile before he killed it.

* * *

 _March 1789_

Light flooded the eyes of The Heretic as he woke. He instantly shut them again, but it hurt more to close them than to open. Every morning, this happened. And every morning he said the exact same thing to himself.

"Fuck…" He wheezed, almost gurgling bile at the back of his throat. "Never again…"

The floor felt cold and hard. Dark hardwood. He had fallen face first into it before he could reach his bed in the night. He sat up, legs extended straight out as he planted both his palms onto the floor to get himself up.

"Ugh…" He groaned, feeling his head for the source of his aching. "I can't take this shit."

He shivered, but then remembered the snow outside, which was continually sweeping itself inwards from the missing wall in his house. Grabbing the shovel propped against the wall beside his bed, The Heretic got to work.

It was said that this winter was one of Arendelle's coldest in recent years. Even with the unexplained "Deep Freeze" that they were talking about. It wasn't until traders from the kingdoms far across the ocean like Agrabah and Camelot arrived, that they explained how long time had passed. For thirty years, Arendelle, the Southern Isles, and most of Corona had been frozen. It was wide spread, and no one could explain where it had come from. The easy answer would have been Queen Elsa, but she was dead. The new King, Hanssaid how he would claim the crown with a "heavy heart" as Princess Anna's former fiancé. He sent birds out to the whole kingdom, one of which had somehow reached the village. The Heretic knew it gave him no concrete right to the crown, but he, his Master, and his Mistress had stayed here for so long. There was nothing to gain from going South.

After shovelling what snow had reached the inside of his house back outside, The Heretic grabbed his satchel and rifle, and headed out.

The village was one that lay at the heart of Arendelle's far North. Last stop before the realm of Everwinter, where only snow, ice, and death thrived. For only four months of the year, the village was free of all snow and ice, and became quite lovely in it's short summers. But that would be the time to work. To plant and grow as much food as they could while they still had the chance.

Truly, it had surprised The Heretic and his masters when the raven arrived. The village no longer existed officially in Arendelle's records, and the last encounter it had had with the outside world had ended with The Heretic nailing eight dead bodies against trees along the road to the village. Bodies that had long ago decayed into skeletons.

The Heretic walked among the empty shells of the village buildings. His house laid right at the edge of the village. If bandits, or soldiers were to come back here, they would have to get through him first before trying after his masters. And even if they somehow got past him, even in his nightly drunken state, they would be bloody fools to try their luck with the lord and lady of the land.

The village inn and pub had taken the worst when they came. Fires had burned everywhere, taking almost all of the village, but now it had practically been reduced to four pillars and what could barely be called a roof. The Heretic could easily close his eyes and picture the screaming villagers. No one had been spared by them, and he never knew why. Bandits or soldiers, his master never told him what they wanted or who they were.

"No questions, Jerred." He had ordered. That was rule number one.

Or rather, those were The Heretic's self-imposed rules. His masters never told him that he owed them a life of service. But he had seen what they were capable of. What they _were_. It would be to ask for death if he tried to ask them to be free of them or ran away.

Much like his own house, the walls were completely missing from the inn. Some of the furniture was still there, and The Heretic walked in to sit down at one of the chairs. He remembered he hadn't counted his shots in weeks.

Setting his rifle down on the rickety table in front of him, he dumped out the shots in his pouch. Moving each bullet to the other side of the table as he counted, it took him a moment that he had counted one of them twice in his bleary, hungover state. He was down to nine bullets, remembering he had wasted three trying to shoot a buck he had seen in the woods a few months back. That's what he got for seeing it after he had been drinking.

He looked up from the table, to the other side of the pub where the other walls had fallen down as well. It was a clear, crisp dawn. Golden light came from the east that morning, and The Heretic could feel most of the warmth leave the fingers of his right hand as he swept the bullets back into his pouch. His left hand was a different story. He walked out as he entwined both his hands together to try to pass some warmth from his left to his right. They looked like the hands of two people. One clean and uncorrupted. The other touched by something dark… black slash marks all over the back of his hand.

To this day, the one thing he barely could understand was the mark. That night, in his dreams, a boy appeared in front of him, close to his own age. He had dark hair, wore a leather jacket and several rings, and whispered things in his ears in the darkness. He saw utter nothingness, an abyss, a void of sorts in this place that he had been taken to. Then the boy, who's eyes were filled with a similar sort of darkness, grabbed his left hand. It hurt deeply within it, but then he felt something different from it. He felt power, and what he could do with it. He found himself able to do things others couldn't. Cover short distances within the blink of an eye. See the paths that the scoundrels took. He used the Gift to find where they went. Then he slaughtered all of them for what he did. They took his family… Kris…

Whatever the boy had given him, The Heretic was not like others. He was right at home within the ruins of the village. No one knew who he was. No one knew he existed. He had been content with that for ages. This corpse of a town was just the place for outcasts like him and his masters.

He spotted the mistress standing on the porch, clearly waiting for him. He had been told by the master that she was incredibly beautiful when she was young. Even after what she had been through, she was able to find happiness and keep her spirit alive. But now they were both aging relics, and all they had to take care of them was The Heretic. The drunken, pathetic Heretic. The only good day was the day before, and the best years were behind all of them. That included The Heretic. Here he was, a man of eight-and-twenty, and even he felt like his soul was that of an old codger's.

The mistress looked angry. But she always was. That was nothing new.

"Where were you?" She snarled.

"I don't understand, Madame." He replied. "It's dawn."

"I mean last night. He had an episode while you wandered off."

It seemed The Heretic was always the first to disappoint or anger the mistress, no matter what he did. He lowered his gaze. "I beg your deepest pardons, Madame. He told me I was dismissed for the night, so I went to go check the southern perimeters and the beach."

" _Puh_." She snorted. "You are dismissed when _I_ say you are. You and I both know that he is in no condition to give coherent orders. Whatever the case, he's anxious to see you."

The Heretic shrugged. While the mistress was stricter than her husband, he was equally scared of them both.

He walked carefully through the house as he felt the mistress walking silently behind him. When he was a boy, people seemed to frighten him all the time if they came up behind him. He was the most jittery of deer, easily startled. But after the boy visited him, nothing truly startled him anymore. He was ready for anything to jump out at him.

The ancient floorboards creaked beneath his feet. The manor hadn't been touched in the attack years back, but The Heretic was not gifted with the hammer and nails. Neither were his masters in their old age, so they had little choice but to let the house rot around them along with the rest of the village. Only a matter of time before the three of them would be taken by the cold, and the village return to the dirt from whence it came.

The master was indeed anxiously waiting for him. The Heretic had never seen the ghoul look so lively. He didn't even know how old he was, or how he could possibly be alive with the state that he was in.

"Jerred…" He groaned. "I've been waiting all night for you."

"My apologies, sir." He said, straightening up.

The master was more than two-thirds dead, but that made no difference to The Heretic. They both frightened him.

The master looked out the window at the rising sun. "It is a beautiful winter, is it not?"

The Heretic shrugged. He didn't sleep well that night because of the beautiful winter. Oh, and the whole bottle of whiskey.

"I heard many stories about our kingdom. People said that there was a winter that lasted a whole year, almost a whole generation ago. We couldn't tell the difference, so far North. But out of that winter bore a babe to the King and Queen."

He coughed, expelling a wad of phlegm from his dry and wrinkled mouth. If one were to glance at him, they would have thought him to have died, dug up from his grave, and then repeated thrice over.

"Our Queen Elsa." He murmured. "I never met her, but I wished that I had before I died."

" _She's_ dead, sir." The Heretic replied. "Do you not remember? The raven told us so."

He spun around furiously. "NO!" He snarled. Then he grinned. "No… no… can't you see, Jerred? You remember the winters! You remember the snows and frosts. They're the same! They're the same as they've ever was. She always brought the cold with her presence! She _must_ be alive! This winter has been no less cold or warmer than for the last twenty-two years. It is a sign. Ah, I am an old miser, but I know a thing or two about these things, aye I do!"

The master never seemed to notice or remember that it had been thirty years that they had been on ice. The Heretic had tried to get him to remember that, but he kept forgetting.

The Heretic shook his head. "Begging your pardon, master, but you are letting your head go up in the clouds." He turned to the mistress. "Right? He's joking." He walked into the room, kneeling down. "You and I read the same letter from the same raven. That Southerner shit Hans is now King."

The master glared. "Aye." He replied. "He is. But not for long. There are those who would see our rightful queen sit on the throne work now. In the shadows."

Jerred looked back at the mistress, who had still been silent. "He must be joking. Madame?"

She shook his head. "He left his bed and kept raving on about this all night. I would have come down to get you, but it was too cold."

The Heretic nodded to himself, then turned back to the master. "What are you asking of me, sir? Do I seek her out? Do I help her retake the throne?" He shook his head. "No. We've stayed as safe as we could by staying here, no contact with the outside world. The last time you sent me south was to wipe all traces of this place from Arendelle's records. That was eight years ago. No one's bothered us since then."

The mistress nodded. "This King Hans hasn't changed anything that has affected us. It would be a big mistake for us to head South to fight him, my love."

The master scowled. "Not us. We send _him_!" He pointed at The Heretic. "I was told so! He must leave us! He must head south and find the resistance!"

"Told by who?!" She snapped. "Leprechauns?"

"The boy!" He replied. "The black-eyed boy!"

The Heretic looked up, feeling his hand itch. "Who?"

The master glared at him, pointing to his arm with a quivering finger, stricken with arthritis. "Don't pretend that those are just simple tattoos over your arm, Jerred! You can do things no one else can! And you waste your time away, drinking yourself unconscious, and taking care of us!"

"Beloved, that's being pretty generous, saying he takes care of us."

The Heretic ignored the mistress. "I don't know what you are talking about, Master." He said. "These are just tattoos." He pulled his sleeve back. While the back of his hand held the Mark, he had a friend hide it by adding more slashes and similar marks over the rest of his forearm.

The master looked at him with despair.

"I can't do what you say I can." The Heretic said. "You tried to teach me to fight, years back. You remember that? I was unconscious for three hours when you punched me in the face."

The old man leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I remember that." He moaned. "Then why did I see the boy last night?"

The Heretic looked back at the mistress. "I'm sorry, Madame. He's going senile."

Despite his bluntness, she nodded. "He's been that way for years. It's not your fault, Jerred."

"No!" The master cried. "He has to find the Assassin! He has to find Asgeir!"

She rolled her eyes again, closing the door. "Asgeir is dead!"

She looked down at The Heretic. "Take no notice to his words, Jerred."

"Will do, Madame." He replied. "What am I to do today?"

"Take these from the cellars and leave them in the kitchen." She said, holding out a list. "Then check the perimeters and the beach as you did last night. Can never be too careful."

"Aye." Jerred replied. "Anything else?"

"I'd tell you to stay away from the whiskey until you're dismissed, but I already know that you will just disobey me."

The Heretic didn't reply. He felt shame. Shame and anger that she would say that about him. She didn't have to do the things he did to ensure no one else would come back here. He never found the way to carry on. Nothing here to do besides taking care of two walking corpses. No one else to talk to. What else did he have to turn to besides the bottle?

* * *

The cellars were a collection of sheds near The Heretic's house. While the entire village was in it's state because of the attack, The Heretic also ensured it to look in it's state of disrepair to keep others away. Best people believed what they believed this place was: desecrated ground. A place where demons thrived and haunted. As long as the rumors still circulated throughout the kingdom, they were safe. Truthfully, those who came to this village and looked hard enough would find plenty of treasures.

The support pillars that kept the shed upright groaned like a sick hound as The Heretic ducked inside. The shelves inside were shattered and knocked over, but he looked downwards and began brushing away the snow from the trapdoor. The latch opened easily enough, but it was a bit of a struggle to lift it up with all the snow and ice making it inside the hut; there was a large hole in the roof that accounted for that.

The Heretic found everything that he was looking for in the hut, no problem. Everything that the mistress wrote down on his list, he swept into his pack and got ready to climb back up to ground level.

But unfortunately, the mistress accurately predicted what he would find. Right in the corner, behind a small sack of potatoes at the bottom of one of the shelves, he found an unopened bottle. Yanking it right out under the shelf, he uncorked it, clamped his jaw over the top of the bottle, and tipped his head back as he let the firey liquid flow down his throat while he climbed back up to the surface.

The Heretic had a serious drinking problem. He was not afraid to admit it. Rather, he was very open in admitting what was wrong with himself. There was a lot that was wrong with him, and this was the best place in this cruel world for him to live out the rest of his days, drinking himself to death. After he closed the trapdoor, and locked it, he headed back out into the snow, swigging away at his bottle.

The beach was over a kilometer down the hill from where the village sat on. The Heretic had left the skulls of some of the attackers impaled on spikes along the beach, more and more to repel intruders. But so far, everything kept people away. All but one, and hopefully, he had come.

Sure enough, as he walked down the path to the beach, he could make out the dark shape of a rowboat coming up against the tides. Dark snowclouds were forming against the morning light, and The Heretic blew against his hands as he struggled on, before taking another big gulp of whiskey.

The rowboat sliced through the waves, clapping loudly against the water. The Heretic was just reaching the top of the beach when it hit the sand and snow, and its passenger jumped out, grabbing a rope to drag it up.

"Help me with this?" He called.

The Heretic nodded, running down the beach and helping the rower get the boat from the water.

"Good to see you, Jerred." He said, holding his hand out.

"Aye." The Heretic replied, taking it. "You too, Sam. Anything good for us today?"

"The works." He replied, rolling back the blanket. "I have beef, I have bacon, I have bread."

"Well, you know what we're running out of. I'll take the lot." He said, reaching into his pocket.

"Good. That'll be two hundred Vytropi this time."

The Heretic coughed. "Seriously?" He cried. "Two hundred?"

"You heard me." Sam replied as he unloaded the sacks of food from the boat. "It's that fucker, King Hans. I was never a fan of nobles to begin with, but this asshole's made everything harder for us smugglers. I had to pass through three different blockades to get here." He noticed The Heretic's reaction. "You know about him? Good King Hans?"

"Yeah." The Heretic replied. "He sent ravens out to the whole kingdom the very week he claimed the crown. One of those ravens found their way here."

"And you're not worried anyone will find their way here?"

"I doubt they knew where the raven would end up when they sent it this way." He said. "There's nothing to be concerned about as long as you keep the rumors flowing."

"Fair enough." Sam said. "That's been easy enough for me before."

"So now you're going to bleed me, and the two geezers dry for these supplies?" The Heretic said, getting back on track.

Sam shook his head. "Of course not. I know how much gold you have after the harvest you sold me. I made you good money for that when I sold it before… all this." He beckoned out to the sea. "You and I know each other in this business. One where many things factor my prices. There is no fixed cost. This includes supply, demand, and above all, risk. Two hundred gold is nothing to you, and the lord of the village. And I am not going to Sript for bringing down produce and not giving a dime of what I make to His Majesty, King Sideburns. But you wouldn't believe the amount of close calls I had on my way up here. There hasn't been a greater risk for decades."

"Fair enough." The Heretic grumbled, pulling out his whole purse, and handing it over. "How long will this last us?"

"Another six months, I reckon. As long as you keep the meats on ice. Upside to living so far North." Sam replied, shivering as he took the gold.

"And…" The Heretic reached into his pocket, feeling around for what silver he had left. "You have what I asked for?"

"Always." Sam replied, taking the extra coins from him. "They're with the onions."

"What news you got from down South?" The Heretic asked.

"Well, Arendelle's now a whole occupation state, if the raven didn't tell you that. Truthfully, the rich, white bastards hardly even notice the difference. I know I've had to keep my head down and not be seen by the guards. They tell people of color that they are being brought down to the Southern Isles for 'work opportunities', but my buddies down there tell me different. It's prison."

"You mentioned Sript?" The Heretic asked. "What's that?"

"Prison camps." He said. "Or, 'liberation' as they put it. They built them right on Sript, the coldest of the Isles. Then they say that you're free to go, but of course that means that you're dead if you try to brave the freezing cold. That's where all the bad people go. You know, the colored ones, the ones who sleep with someone of the same sex, the usual business."

The Heretic scowled. "Why isn't anyone speaking out about this bullshit?"

"He's made life a living heaven for anyone who's shown enough devotion to him." Sam replied. "And even if the citizens were to realize how shoddy his claim to the throne has been, he's got armadas, armies, navies backing him up. It'd be the rich vs the poor. That attack plan would be about as effective as a bee's attack on a window."

The Heretic cursed.

Sam looked curiously at his friend. "What does it even matter to you?" He said. "You've done all you could to keep the outside world from coming here. I spread the rumors about the demons to make sure it stays that way. Nothing has changed, really."

"Everything has changed." The Heretic replied, looking off towards the sea. "People down south are suffering every day, and most of them are letting this Southerner arsehole do it to them. And the old man was going off about something earlier this morning."

"Anything you need me to check in on?"

The Heretic gave it some thought. Sam was a friend he trusted with the secret of the village, but only because he had known him since they were kids. But if the mistress was so dismissive…

"Yeah. Where's home for you, if they'd send someone like you down to the camps?"

"Molrum." Sam replied. "It's close to the Corona border, and it's where all the smuggling was routed through Arendelle even before Hans choked it up."

"Then it might be worth it to check there." The Heretic replied. "I only have a first name: Asgeir. The old man was going on about how I need to find him."

Sam nodded. "Sure, I'll look into him." He replied. "What happens if I find him?"

"Then let me know, the next time you come up." The Heretic said, as though that was obvious. "Whatever I need to do when I find him might be obvious when that happens." Then he realized something. "Or better yet, bring him here. The master wants to see him."

Sam agreed as he headed back into the boat, grabbing his oars. "Will do." He said, pushing the boat back into the water. "I'll be seeing you, Jerred. Good luck!" He started to row against the crashing waves of the beach as snow began to fall.

The Heretic grimly waved back to Sam as he took what few sacks he could carry, and started back up to the food sheds.

He never told the master and mistress about Sam. He lived here in the village years ago, but left before the attack to join up with the smuggling business. Good men doing bad things, moving in contraband under Queen Elsa the Kind, as she was known. When he came back to find the smoking ruins, The Heretic quietly put in an agreement. Sam and he would help the master of the old village and his wife in the manor. He would bring supplies and sell the harvest they made every year, and spread the rumors about ghosts and demons haunting the ruins. Ensure that no one else in Arendelle would know about the village still existing. It gave Sam work, and The Heretic news about what was happening in the outside world.

All honesty, he knew that the only reason Sam had not up and left them for good was that he was like family to him. Their produce was not enough to live forever, even though the amount of produce they grew could feed a whole village. The Heretic was at least thankful that the village farm was still well enough to be used after the attack.

* * *

The rest of the day's work went on as normal. Indeed, he found more booze grouped with the onions. He brought up the rest of the sacks of food to the cellars, then brought in what was needed to make dinner that night. Afterwards, the mistress ordered him to check more of the perimeter and clearing out some of the snow.

Before long, it was nighttime. He had been dismissed for the day and now sat on his bed in the dark, sipping away at his third bottle of the day. Cold winds were blowing from the missing wall, but he huddled under his coat, pulling his ratty quilt up.

But it began to grow colder still. And darker. So dark that The Heretic could no longer see the room around him in his own house. No, before long all he could see was utter darkness all around. Then a flash of light, and he could hear a voice.

"I can't say that I am surprised with you, Jerred. Nor am I impressed. What else can there be for a man with no family left living in this world, and only his smuggler friend on the outside to help you slowly to the grave? All you have to comfort you are two Masters who think of you as more of a burden than a servant, and whatever you hope to find at the bottom of your next bottle."

The boy stood before him. The one who had offered him the chance for vengeance years ago, and gave him the scars on his hand. Everyone always talked about his eyes. The eyes of utter blackness, with nothing beyond to see. A Void of sorts.

"There has been a disturbance in the tides, recently. Though you and your Masters haven't felt it yet, _they_ will soon reach your domain in the tallest of waves, and there will be no way to escape it. After all these years of staying out of the fight, forces from one side or another will find their way here.

"You are the first person to have received my Mark, after so many centuries of watching the world from the darkness of the Void. I gave it to you to test your worth, and in return, you took over a dozen lives to save a dead town. To avenge those taken from you. What will you do now, with a usurper on the throne of Arendelle, and the talk of angry spirits in back alleys and ruined villages? Will you strike first, knowing there is no way to stop what will come?"

The Heretic sat up, rubbing his eyes. His entire arm itched with that familiar energy throughout his body. The Envisioned One existed only as a fleeting image in the eyes of a select few. Those who spoke of him were deemed insane, and the Abbey chose to brand him as their mortal (or to be more precise, _immortal_ ) enemy. For whatever reason, he was the only living soul to have seen him as much more than a rapid blip of a dream. He was a chosen soul. And if he was returning to taunt him again, then it was serious. There was no hiding from it. Especially with the master having seen him the night before.

The Envisioned One grinned. "Take this…" He said, pointing at his hand. "And use it well. It holds a power unlike any other…"

The dark clouds that surrounded them evaporated, leaving The Heretic alone. Alone, but with something in his right hand that the Envisioned One had left behind.

He looked down at the object. It was a sword made of bronze, but the shape of it was very strange. Instead of a single blade out of the sheath, two blades came out of it, sort of like the shape of a tuning fork.

The Heretic moved the blade to his left hand, where it was more comfortable. Suddenly, he felt searing pain hit it. Energies from the marks on his hand seemed to react to the blade in his hand. The bronze of the sword suddenly blackened, and he felt twitches coming from the blade itself.

"What the-?" He gasped. It felt… alive, almost. Like some sort of demon was inside, clawing its way to get out of the double bladed sword he now held.

And suddenly, he knew what he could do with the sword. What he _had_ to do.

He got up from his bed, and walked hurriedly over to his pack. He began to shove his things into it, taking little care to keep it organized or anything else that he would have cared about if he were sober. He was smashed beyond relief, but there was no mistaking it. What he saw was indeed the Envisioned One. The boy who had branded him all those years ago. First the master saw him, and now he did. He had to head south. He had told Sam to find this Asgeir person himself, but now it was clear. He had to seek him out, instead. He had to take Asgeir here for whatever reason, and he had to help him fight back.

In his nightstand, he yanked the drawer out, tossing it across the room. He had buried it behind the drawer, under an old blanket. Spreading it out, he felt crispy, blackened edges to it. _Burned_ edges. A massive hole had been scorched right through it.

The Heretic understood what had burned the blanket as he felt around and found the charm. It was old, and made of bones… whale bones. The boy had shown him how to do make it, and it only took one to give him the strength to take them all down… It helped him harness the energy he possessed.

Wearing one like this would be forbidden by the orders of the Overseers. He looped it through the chain he had it bundled with, then slung it over his neck, and shoved it under his shirt. He hoped it wouldn't burn him like it had the blanket.

The blanket also held a disc of a kind, also made of bones. He had found it, with the help of the boy. Right in the center of the face, someone had carved the same marks on his hand into the face of the disc. The boy had told him that the only way to unlock its secrets was to break the disc, but The Heretic still hadn't done it. He would wait until he really needed it.

Lastly, he grabbed the bottle of…

"Shit." He groaned. It was nearly empty. And even if he had enough bottles to keep him going for the rest of the winter, he realized that that might not be the best course of action.

"Urrrrh." He growled to himself. "Fine." He took a long swig of the last of the drink, then tossed the bottle aside. It broke with a loud crack as fell in the corner, but did not shatter. He could go without a few drinks on the road south.

He looked around his room, then clenched his fist.

Breathing deeply, he was suddenly in the warm darkness of the master's manor. The mistress had quarters of her own. He wiped his mouth as he took a step across the creaky floor.

The master stirred instantly. "Jerred?" He blearily yawned.

"I'm leaving, master." He whispered. "I'll find this Asgeir."

He sat up in bed. "Thank you." He whispered. "My beloved Rina wouldn't allow this, but it must happen. I'm too old to fight back against the madness that Hans represents. But I could pass on what I know to another. Find him, Jerred. I beg you. Find Asgeir Cormac."

Jerred nodded, clenching his fist again. He felt the searing energies, like a hot poker pushing through his hand. "I'll do my best, sir."

* * *

 _March 1789_

"And now the River!" The Dealer called.

Everyone looked uneasily at the last revealed card. Six of hearts.

"Let's hear it." She said.

"Check."

"Yeah, I check too."

"Check."

The Dealer grinned. She wasn't gonna get much out of them this hand, but she was satisfied. "I'll check as well. Flip 'em."

Callista showed hers. "Flush." She declared, showing two hearts. With the six, the queen, and the seven on the table, it indeed gave her an edge.

Dizzy groaned. "Dammit." She flipped her cards to show a five and four, clubs. "Straight."

Finally, Ace showed hers. "And here I thought I had won. Three threes."

The Dealer chuckled. "You would think, but no dice."

"Oh yeah?" Callista challenged. "Can you do better, Levonne?"

The Dealer nodded, showing her sixes. "How does a full house sound?"

"Oh man!"

Callista shrugged. "You win."

The Dealer swept the gold to her corner. "Next time, ladies."

Ace stood up. "Yeah, I'm cashing out. Got a gig in a few minutes."

"Alright." The Dealer smiled up at her. "Have fun."

"Like I got a choice." She groaned.

Dizzy looked up at the clock, then to The Dealer. "Maybe we take a break here?" She asked.

She nodded. "Sounds like a plan, Dizzy." She said. "I'm a little hungry, myself."

Callista shook her head. "Forgot something in my room." She said. "I'll catch up."

Dizzy grinned. "I'll go get some of the stew Luca cooked up. I hear he's trying onions in it tonight."

The Dealer laughed as she followed her sister into the pub. " _Now_ he develops some taste." She chuckled.

The pub wasn't nearly as busy as the brothel. Legally, it was actually an inn and pub. But in this part of Karnard, the capital city of the Southern Isles, it made no difference. An establishment was an establishment.

"Luca?" Dizzy called.

From behind the bar, a warm face leaned into the pub from the doorway.

"Aye? Get you girls anything?"

"Yeah, Levonne and I will have two bowls of that stew you were telling me about."

He grinned. "Coming right up, ladies."

The Dealer and Dizzy took their seats at their usual table, near the bar, but by the window. The Vanishing Sparrow had a great view of the sea from the mountainside Karnard was built on. The capital of the Southern Isles, and also right at the southernmost tip of them.

Dizzy got up, vaulting over the bar table and grabbing a bottle. "Want anything?"

"Wouldn't mind some pear soda." She said.

"Ah, right." Dizzy said, remembering.

Luca came out, carrying two bowls in each of his big, burly hands. Despite his size, The Dealer always knew him to be the big, soft teddy bear he was. He, Dizzy, and all the rest of the members of the Sparrow were family.

"So, what did you try in this one, Luca?" The Dealer asked.

"I put in some onions, some carrots, celery, and a few other things. Can you guess my very secret ingredient?" He asked, crossing his fingers.

The Dealer chuckled, taking a spoonful. It was very good, which didn't surprise her.

"Isn't that…" Dizzy took a moment. "Garlic?"

"Gah!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Foiled again!"

"Ah, don't worry, Luca. You'll find something that we'll never be able to guess, one day."

"And I look forward to that day with all my heart, Levonne." He replied, bowing as he backed into the kitchen to start again.

This game had been going on for over a year. Luca had decided to take his passions of cooking to a new level. He wanted a speciality dish, and one with a secret ingredient that no one else would be able to guess. But so far, The Dealer and Dizzy had guessed them all.

"Well, good business tonight." Dizzy said, taking another spoonful.

The Dealer's gaze went out the window, towards the western side of the city. They had a clear view of it, despite it being many miles away. The Palace of the Southern Isles.

"Things are good in our own realm, Levonne." Dizzy said, patting her sister on the shoulder. Not bound by blood, but bound by fate.

"Those fuckers still thrive at our expense." She replied. "With that… oh, whatshisface… the youngest prince?"

"Hans."

"Thank you. With him heading North on some mission to Arendelle, things haven't really improved for us. I even saw our expense reports. Ace reckons there'll be a big climb in taxes when the clerks come knocking once more."

"Still, we have a good life here." She replied. "And there's no reason for us to worry about those asshats _until_ they come knocking."

The Dealer shrugged. "Fair enough." She admitted. "Let's finish this up, quick. I wanna start another hand."

* * *

Soon enough, they were back at the table.

The Dealer was just beginning to shuffle the cards and pass them over to Callista, when they heard hooting from behind. The door slammed open.

"C'mon!" A voice slurred.

"We're comin', man!"

The Dealer turned around, seeing three young men stumble into the foyer. Behind her, Dizzy and Callista stood up from the table. The men were nicely dressed, clearly either noble, or well-off. The Dealer had seen men like them before. They all looked the same to her, in her experience. Wealthy, and if she was lucky, stupid.

"Welcome, sirs." Callista said. "May we help you?"

"Yeah, we're-" He stopped to laugh to himself. "We uh… think we might be lost. Is this the Vanishing Sparrow?"

"One and the same." The Dealer said, curtly. She could deal with all sorts of clients, but her patience for drunks had worn thin after her time in the business.

"Oh, fantastic." He giggled. "Then we will like three rooms for the night. And girls to go with them."

One of them who hadn't spoke yet smacked his friend on the back. "Now, hang on, friend. I'd like to take a few hands with The Dealer."

She stood up. "What do you want with her?" She asked.

"I recently came into some gold, and thought I'd double it at her expense." He smirked. "Friend of mine tells me she's the best in Karnard, even after he beat her."

She nodded. If he lost, she would wipe that pathetic smirk off of his face. But if he won, then… well, she would very much enjoy this, either way.

"The Dealer doesn't play just anyone off the street, gentlemen." Dizzy said, as their routine went. "First, you win a hand against Levonne, here. Then you play our lady, The Dealer."

The rich boy chuckled. "Easy enough." He said, taking a misstep in place. He chuckled from dizziness. "Her tits as fine as yours?" He said to her.

The Dealer ran her middle finger over her neck, greatly distracting him while subtly flipping him off. "You'll need to win a few hands against her to get the answer to that question." She cooed. Then she gestured to the table. "Please."

Laughing, the shit and his buddies stumbled over to the table, her and Dizzy sitting beside each other. She would watch, but not play.

"Step aside, boys." He bragged. "I'll take care of this little lady, myself."

The Dealer pulled out her deck, and began to deal her and the snob out.

"Big blind is four gold, small blind, two." She said, dropping four gold down.

He shrugged, dropping two gold pieces down.

"So, who told you he beat The Dealer?" She asked.

"Lord Walter, sweet thing." He said. "Came in last week and beat every one of you by the time the sun came up."

The Dealer looked down at her hand, sliding her 'card mask' on. Indeed, she remembered hearing the Lord Walter bragging loudly throughout the whole night while Ace filled him up with wine. Clearly his pride was bigger than what he claimed his… thing was. He lost all his gold within two hours of playing "Levonne".

Queen, Ace in her hands. Good. Maybe worth it to check what the flop held.

The nobleman laughed. "I'll call you." He said, winking to her.

The Dealer tapped her fingers down on the green felt tabletop. "And I'll check."

She dealt out the flop. Queen, eight, ace. When she was a little girl playing her first few games under this very roof, she stupidly screamed with joy when she flopped a flush. She had learned much since then, and at least Madame Price was kind enough to teach her without punishment at that age.

"Twenty." The man said, his friends watching with glee. One of them in his drunken state looked down at his hand, and laughed out loud before slapping his hand to his mouth.

It was good. But was it as good as Two Pair on the flop? She might try to up the stakes a bit.

"I'll see you, and raise you five gold." She replied. Hook them in, but not scare them. This was fishing on the land.

The shithead shrugged again. "I'll call you."

The Dealer laid out the turn. King of clubs.

Not much to add to her going hand. A queen or an ace would do her marvellously. But the man across from her was chuckling with glee. He must have had a king in his hand. Fair enough. If he won, she'd give this one to him.

"Twenty gold!" He said, again, his friends hooting with laughter. They clearly didn't understand the table rules.

Dizzy looked uneasily at her friend. But The Dealer calmly placed twenty gold Vytropi pieces in front.

"Call you."

She was bluffing, but she had her plan.

The River was nothing better than a seven. But the selfish prick still hadn't taken enough from her. "Fifty Vytropi!" He cried as The Dealer saw Callista come up behind, dropping glasses of rum in front of the three men.

The three of them howled with laughter, and The Dealer heard a slapping sound. Callista grimaced, and The Dealer knew what one of them had done. This was an establishment where behavior of that kind was routine, but the fact that they hadn't paid a copper to them angered The Dealer enough to make her decision.

"Fine." She said, taking out a "fifty" wooden chip, and placing it on the table. She flipped them. "Two pair."

"Hah! As stupid as you are a sight!" He slurred, reaching for his glass. "Three of a kind!" He flipped over his cards to show a pair of kings.

He rudely lunged over the table by his belly, sweeping all of The Dealer's money from her as his friends threw back their drinks. Callista looked to Dizzy, who nodded to her. These guys wanted to mess with the Ladies of the Sparrow, so they would get a scrap from them. Callista obediently refilled their glasses as The Dealer took the cards from him.

"Now, I get to play The Dealer!" He declared.

"Not yet, sir." The Dealer growled under her breath. "How bout you deal this one?"

He shrugged again, just proving his carelessness. "Fine. I beat the shit out of you last hand, and I'll gladly do it again." He loudly coughed up a wad of phlegm, spitting it near Callista's feet as she went to go get more rum.

Dizzy passed a large coin purse to The Dealer, who pulled out two gold pieces. Then the nobleman dealt her out.

She looked down at her hand. Shit… Nine and four. But she didn't want to let this asshole's attitude get the better of her. Either way, she had won this game the very moment that he and his friends had walked into the brothel.

"No weaseling your way out of this one, love." He sneered. "I will play The Dealer once I finish you off, and not a minute later."

She placed two more gold Vytropi over her blind. "You seem to be the demanding sort of man." She said.

"I'm of the Royal Family's court. I always get what I want."

So, he _was_ a nobleman. Good. This would teach anyone in King Elias' court to think twice before coming to her corner of the city.

Lazily, The Dealer ran her fingers over the edge of the cards in her hand. Then she noticed something, and grinned.

"Something funny?" He said.

"No." She said. "I just know now that I'll win this game for certain."

"Good luck, sweetums." He chuckled. "I'll raise you thirty."

"I call." She said without hesitation, taking the pieces from the purse.

He dealt out the flop. Seven, eight, and king. Nothing to help her, unless she could somehow count on a straight by some miracle. She was getting pissed by this fucker.

"Check." She tapped her fingers on the table.

"I don't think so." He taunted. "Another thirty."

"Call you." She replied.

The turn was another King. There was no chance for a straight, now. But she didn't want to back down.

"Check."

He laughed loudly. "Fifty."

She eyed the cards that he had pinned down to the table. She wouldn't be able to tell from this distance, but she would be dealing out, next hand. There was plenty of Vytropi to go around with her and the girls.

"Call you." She replied, tossing the coins down.

The river was a lousy Ace. Maybe that would have helped if she had two of them in her hand. But she still had to see what he was so confident in.

"Check." She tried one more time.

"Seventy." He sneered. "If you think you can beat what I have, then you will call, bitch. Or are you too scared?"

Refusing to take off the mask she wore at the table, she grabbed a heaping handful of coins, not bothering to count them. She slammed them on the table.

"Flip them." She ordered.

He laughed, showing a pair of Kings. "Four of a kind." He sneered. "Beat that."

She shook her head. "Nope. Not gonna cut it." She admitted, showing her hand.

All three of the men howled like rabid hyenas. Dizzy's face was enough for The Dealer. She didn't know what The Dealer did.

"Now, I'll be taking all that…" He said, swiping the pot. "And playing The Dealer."

The Dealer sat back in her chair. "Alright boys." She said. "You may." Then she grinned. "But can you really beat me again?"

They looked confused. "Huh?"

"I _am_ The Dealer." She said. "But I was obviously holding back. You won't win another hand."

The nobleman laughed. "You?! Clearly you _were_ holding back with such effort like that."

"Then I promise to make the next hand… memorable." She said. "Beat me in this hand, and you may tell your friends how you won so much gold from me."

"Hahah!" He leaned back. "Alright. Deal me in, Madame Dealer."

She nodded, sweeping the rest of the cards to her side of the table. Quickly, she ran her thumb over the edge of the kings from the nobleman's hand. Right into a neat pile she laid the cards, rubbing the same thumb and her forefinger together. They were completely dry. She smirked.

With masterful grace and speed, she fanned the cards out, shuffling and throwing the cards through the air around her.

The nobleman's friend to the left whistled. "At least you have some skill with the cards. Even if they are just pathetic parlor tricks. I might just enjoy the rest of this night in my room with you."

She glanced at him. He had big talk for not playing her in this game. They didn't even bother to realize how high the stakes had been risen when they challenged her "Dealer" persona. She was two people under this roof. "Levonne", the whore, and "The Dealer", the very proprietor of the establishment.

"Madame?" Dizzy meekly asked, understanding her act was over. "Shall I leave?"

"No, Dizzy." She replied. "You may stay."

The other buddy of the nobleman's laughed. "The hell sort of name is 'Dizzy'? You dizzy with the amount of blood rushing through your cunt?"

With precision she hadn't shown the fuckers before, The Dealer quickly shot the cards out, dealt within seconds. She carefully looked at her hand, smirking. King, Queen, spades. Exactly how she planned it.

The nobleman was shaken for a moment, but he quickly shook it off, looking down at his hand, holding his cards quite close to his sleeves. He laughed.

"It's a true disappointment to know my expectations have fallen quite short of your reality, Madame Dealer. I'll be sure to tell Prince Alex and Grant about this place. You should be honored to lose to nobility."

And he would be disgraced to lose to lowborn women like her and her sisters.

"Two hundred." She said, dropping the whole purse onto the table from her lap.

He could not stop laughing all this game. "I will absolutely call you." He said.

She dealt out the flop. Jack of spades, five of diamonds, three of hearts. A flop of absolute randomness to most people, but exactly what she wanted.

"Three hundred." She said.

He grinned, and slapped a large handful onto the table. "Yes ma'am."

Then came the turn. Ten of spades. Brilliant.

She looked him dead in the eye. This was his last chance to back off and walk away.

"All in." She didn't say how much that was, but Dizzy knew. It meant the whole establishment's reserves.

But he only scoffed. "You're bluffing. You can't win, sweetie. I call." He pushed all of his gold into the pot, including the wooden fifty chip he had won a few hands back.

Finally, the river.

The Ace of Spades. A classic river card.

The Dealer had won. She smirked. There was no way for him to win, now.

But he laughed again. "Well, pleasure doing business with you. I have a Royal Flush."

He flipped his cards. King and Queen of Spades. The exact same cards that The Dealer held in her own hand.

She smiled, and flipped her cards. "So do I."

The three nobles looked down in confusion, when suddenly, The Dealer made her move. She grabbed the deck, kicked her foot up to the bottom of the table, flipping it into the air. Gold coins flew through the air as she grabbed the rest of the cards right from the table. She lunged for the nobleman, and fanned out the deck, swiping it across his throat.

Instantly, the nobleman began to choke up blood as his friends watched in horror at what they saw. He tried to hold his hand to his neck, but The Dealer firmly wrenched her hand onto his wrist.

"Now, what do we have here?" She said, running her hands down his sleeves. Indeed, she found what she was looking for. He had been switching the cards from her deck of steel-edged cards to his own. The back of them had the same pattern, but there was no fooling her own eyes.

"We got ourselves a little cheater, here." She sneered, pulling out her own Ace of Spades from her hand. She began to lower it to the nobleman's wrist, honed and ready to cut through, when his buddies spoke up.

"No!" One of them cried. "Please, ma'am! We won't tell anyone, we swear!"

"We was just having a bit of fun!"

"Fun that included speaking rudely to Dizzy and touching Callista when she didn't invite that. I never once saw any of you pay a copper to me, so you are not clients. And if you are not clients, then you have no right to touch my sisters." She brushed the Ace's edge to the noble's wrist, him still choking up more blood. "And then you steal right from under my nose when you thought that you were dealing with a little 'sweetie'. I am not one to be trifled with, and your friend, Lord Walter, should have known better than to send you here."

"Please!" The other said. "Just let us go!"

"I wish I could do that." She said, sighing as she stood up. Dizzy and Callista came up behind her, taking their positions at her sides. "But you clearly forgot rule number one: The house always wins."

She fanned out the deck, and tossed the King and Queen right to their throats.

Callista and Dizzy stood by in awe, looking over at their sister. The Dealer triumphantly stood over their bodies, blood spilling out across the dark mahogany floor.

The sound of footsteps came from the top of the staircase. Ace suddenly came around the corner, and looked down at the bottom to where all three ladies stood.

Ace looked at the bodies. "Cheaters?" She asked, tying her hair up behind.

The Dealer nodded. "Let's get this mess cleaned up." She knelt down to their bodies, taking out their purses, and sweeping up some of the scattered gold coins off the floor.

The Dealer looked down at the coin in between her fingers. Blood had begun to coat it before she picked it up. One side of the coin showed a ship. The _HMS Cubitt_ , where King Elias led the charge against Misthaven invaders. The ship had been retired after that battle, but His Majesty claimed it to be immortalized forever on the coins.

The Dealer turned the coin over in her fingers. There was more blood covered on this side, but even she could make out the distinct profile of His Majesty. He was a prideful King from what she heard of him, but that did not mean that he was immortal. Spokepeople for the King and the Royal Family had been talking for months about how ill he was. It was only a matter of time…

Dizzy and Ace took the body of the cheater first, taking him out to the back. He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last. No one could beat The Dealer at a game of poker, and no one could sneak a card past her, either. But she secretly looked forward to the day that a worthy opponent would find some way to sneak an extra Ace past her. One day.

* * *

 _February 1789_

Nothing was growing this time of year. Even this far south, all of Arendelle could feel the cruel stroke of the winter. But that didn't meant preparations could not be made. With his wheelbarrow creaking loudly against the cobblestone street, The Gardener found a perfect place to sit down, and get to his work.

Even with his change in landscape, The Gardener had never fought so hard to ensure his routine stay unbroken. He was a creature of habit, and everything had to happen as it had to him for the last seven years.

He took out his knife, and began cutting through the cuttings in his wheelbarrow. No better place than ever to harvest his seedlings.

Truthfully, it wasn't the luxury that he missed from his old life. It was just the position. He was proud of his work as the Royal Gardener. All of the work put into the gardens every spring was because of his passion, and his commitment.

But all the same, the Southerner bastard dismissed him.

He slid the knife down the dead stem of the tulip in his hand, wishing it was Little Miss Muttonchops.

The whole week was one of grim tension. There was a message being passed throughout the palace staff. Some woman named Ingrid had made her way into court, but Queen Elsa's Spymaster, Connor, suspected something. Next thing he knew, citizens of Arendelle were being sent south to Corona, gathered up in the ships and being brought down the coast.

But then, within a day of them landing in Corona, ships from the Southern Isles landed to escort them back up. It greatly confused the citizens of Arendelle, but The Gardener was glad to head back. Winter was coming, and that meant he had to begin his plans for the Spring festival next year.

A guard approached him on the ship the day before they returned.

"Are you Terej?" He asked.

"One and the same." He replied. "Royal Gardener of the castle."

"King Hans will want to speak to you when we return." He said.

" _King_ Hans?" To say The Gardener was confused would have been to say a mouse facing a lion was frightened.

"What, you didn't hear?" He asked.

"No." The Gardener said, fearing the worst. "They're not telling us anything."

"Queen Elsa is dead. 'er sister, too. Rest their souls, as His Majesty takes the crown."

* * *

The Gardener angrily stormed into the meeting hall, answering on the summons Hans had given him. He sat at the head of the massive table in the hall. The table was the exact same that Queen Elsa had held her councils at, but he himself was never present at those meetings. He was only the gardener, after all. Not a general, nor an admiral, not even the mysterious Spymaster who had come into her court only a year before.

The first thing he saw about the King was his face. It had been badly cut by something, with a deep wound now present on his face. It looked to be scarring. Before then, Terej had only seen Hans a few times from a distance, the week of Queen Elsa's coronation. He seemed a nice enough Prince, caring for those affected by the snows Her Majesty brought. But then he showed his true colors when he tried to drive a sword through her back. The snake…

"Terej." Hans said, standing up. The men who stood behind the king eyed him as The Gardener stood at the other side of the table. There was a chair, and a goblet of wine present there, but he didn't take either of them.

"Your Majesty." He said, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. He remembered only too well what he had tried to do to those poor girls, two years ago.

"It has been a troubling time, sir." Hans said, clearly trying to offer some courtesy in his voice. "I'm certain you heard about the Deep Freeze."

The Gardener shrugged, shaking his head. "Something about us being frozen for thirty years, I heard. Your guards told me as much as they brought me up here. Honestly, I just felt very cold for a few minutes, one night."

"Indeed. Tragic, that Elsa would show her true colors at this time."

"Yes." He replied, still showing his anger in his face and voice. He wasn't buying what this Southerner shit was selling.

"Tragic that she would also allow traitors in her inner circle. The Assassins murdered her and her sister."

"Assassins?"

"Anarchists. Rabble rousers. Murderers, thieves and rapers who play by their own rules. And your queen let one of them into her council as her Spymaster. Then he killed them both."

Connor? The Gardener had seen him a few times in passing. Maybe Hans was telling the truth, but he would trust a literal rat before he would trust the snake who tried to murder both of those girls before. He very seriously doubted the intentions of Connor if it was murder for their fair queen. That was a lie.

"What does this have to do with me, Your Majesty?" He said, coldly.

"Elsa's inner circle was tarnished and full of corruption." Hans said. "The standards set for this kingdom have been put to an all time low, as well. It's disgusting. But thankfully, I am here to save this kingdom from itself."

The Gardener looked around, then noticing the two servants standing by the table, out of view of the meeting.

"Where are Kai and Gerda, Milord?" He asked.

"Please, Terej. You will address me as 'My King', or 'Your Majesty'."

"Alright. Where are Kai and Gerda, _Your Majesty_?"

Hans sighed, a little smirk on his face. "As I said, there has been corruption in this court for far too long, and I have come here to fix it. Every mechanism needs to be cleaned, and the useless pieces removed."

"What did you do with them?" He snarled.

"Please." Hans said, raising his hand. "This is a courtesy call, Terej. The staff who I granted an audience told me that there hasn't been a more faithful and loyal servant to the Crown. But I can't make exceptions with traitors among the last council. So…"

He clapped his hands. They were gloved, only adding to his aristocratic profile. The Gardener thought they made him look like an asshole.

One of the servants fetched a chest in the corner, carrying it over to the table. It seemed to be quite heavy to her, and she placed it down a little too fast in front of The Gardener.

"I'm so sorry, sir-"

"It's fine." He replied, waving her away. He was worried what was in the chest. Something he had a gift in was predicting how most conversations would go. This chest had one of two things hidden right under it's lid.

He flipped open the latches, and lifted it to find… coins. A whole chest filled with gold Vytropi, and silver Tryrins.

"What is this, boy?" He snapped. Most people would be happy to see a chest full of gold. But The Gardener, who worked every day of his life for the love of flowers and his ability to make things grow, knew the gold for what it really was: severance.

"I have heard that you listen to orders well, Terej." Hans snapped. "So, I will only give you one more chance to remember: You are to address me as 'Your Majesty' or 'My King'."

Almost as soon as he was beginning some sort of childish tantrum, he stopped, calming down, and regaining his composure.

"You've served Queen Elsa faithfully. She would owe you thanks for your… services. But if she was so blind to let a murderer into her inner circle to kill her, who's to say another one of her old staff would so easily betray their new King?"

The Gardener reeled in fury. "I am no traitor!"

"And I believe you." Hans said. "But I cannot make any exceptions. We're making a fresh start with this occupation. The Southern Isles will bring it's order to the North, and the first steps are to rearrange the council and my advisors."

The Gardener looked around the room. Every one of the men surrounding the prick were not familiar faces. Likely members of the royal court in the Southern Isles.

"But, am I not without generosity? Six thousand Vytropi. One thousand for each year you served Elsa."

The Gardener also noticed that every man in the room was armed with at least one sword and pistol. If he even tried with this stuck up bastard, it would end very badly for him. He could only guess that whoever gave him the scar was now rotting in the dungeons below the castle. Or dead.

"This is not over." He snarled.

"No, I'm afraid it is." Hans sighed. "I cannot take any unnecessary risks so soon into my reign. My father would be disappointed."

The Gardener grabbed the chest, shoving it under his arm.

"Oh, and I expect you to be gone from the castle town by sunset." Hans added.

The Gardener spluttered. "Then where the hell am I supposed to go?"

One of the generals beside Hans stepped forwards. "The people of Arendelle have nothing but gratitude for your service to them. We have arranged for lodgings in the town of Molrum to be put aside for you, and your accommodations for the next two months have been covered."

The Gardener shook his head. He was a lowly servant, and this brat still saw him as a threat because he served the last queen with loyalty and honor. He was just a gardener, yet they spoke of his services as if he were some knight defending his land. As if flattery was what he really wanted. All he wanted for all of his life, he had had for six years under King Agdar, and later Queen Elsa: to spend every one of his days tending plants and flowers, watching them grow in the beautiful kingdom of Arendelle.

He took great pride and love in his work with flowers. Crocuses were his favourite. They were the flower Arendelle was best known for, and he felt that he had a part to play in it's widespread fame. Nobles from all over the realm had heard of Arendelle's gardens, and came in droves to see it. But he never took credit or spoke to them for his work. His pride in his accomplishment was enough of a reward. Besides, he was low born. Unfit to speak to those above his stature.

Turning for the door, The Gardener loudly coughed up a wad of phlegm, leaving it behind him on the floor as he walked out in fury.

* * *

That was almost four months ago. Now, he was slowly chipping away at the gold that had been left for him, with his two months coverage gone.

While The Gardener stayed in the village of Molrum, he did what he could to try to find work. Nothing that paid with the skills that he had. Not at this time of year. And even then, the occupation pressed too much gold out of the citizens of the kingdom. Here they were, paying more gold to finance the massive amount of soldiers patrolling the streets that were not wanted, or needed with no one to oppose King Hans' claim.

Shopkeepers who had seen their flowers die quickly the last year sold The Gardener their clippings at a bargain, giving him work to do himself. Finding seeds in the stems, planning on planting them in the abandoned beds when the frost melted. But even this close to Corona, winter would still find it's touch to the Sapphire of the North. It always did. It would be another few months before he could plant the seeds that he had harvested.

He deeply missed those two girls. There were a few occasions that Anna came to help him with his work. She was an eager girl, very excitable. He admired that in her, with nothing letting her spirit down. He started working for the family a year before the shipwreck. It was the first time in over a decade that King Agdar had hired new hands to the castle. But he was never allowed to see Princess Elsa until after the coronation. And when he found out why, he understood.

She was much melancholier girl than her younger sister. It was only after her coronation that she began to really interact with servants other than Kai and Gerda. She took time to learn all of their names, and The Gardener even received some personal help in the gardens a year after her coronation.

But regardless of how he felt about them, they were both now dead. Whether from these "Assassins" Hans spoke of, the shithead prince himself, or some unknown demon, those girls were gone. And the paranoid fucker couldn't stand the idea of keeping anyone close to those girls within his castle. So, he forced the choice on them all: leave with dignity, or die.

After a few hours of extracting the seeds from his cuttings, The Gardener had a full bag of them. He placed the bag in with the cuttings, and began to push it back home. The cuttings would be kindling for his fires for the next few nights. The sun had long set, and now the nightly frost was beginning to come in. It was time for him to head home.

It was a claustrophobic regime he now lived under. King Hans laid more and more and more laws down before the people. Molrum was one of the two places that felt the most from his rule, the other being the castle down.

"Over there." He heard someone say.

Stopping his barrow for a moment, he looked over to see a large group of guards hauling three people by their legs, dragging them across the icy stone streets. There were bags over their heads, so he could not see their faces. But he could hear the sobs coming from them.

It was no mystery what they were guilty of, though. Again, the regime was felt the hardest here, being so close to the border. Hans felt some sort of hunger to press hard onto his subjects, but people here knew how lax and safe it was in Corona. There were bandits, and there were some dangers, but it was safe. Here, the people here felt scared by the people that were supposed to _protect_ them. And yet, these people, who The Gardener had been hearing called "Sprinters", were guilty of the greatest crime of all in Molrum: trying to run for the Corona border.

The guards pressed the Sprinters up against the wall. It was a massive brick wall, which was now part of the colossal fortress between Molrum and Corona. Southern Isle troops had been working on it night and day since the occupation started, and it was still not finished. The Gardener heard that when it was, it would be three hundred feet tall, and span the length of seven miles from the town. Patrols along the rest of the borders between the two kingdoms would ensure no one would reach the safety of Rapunzel. For the most determined to reach the border, one could attempt to swim to Corona; if they could somehow make it past the blockade of over two dozen ships patrolling the waters.

The captain of the guard squad stepped forward. "That was an admirable attempt to cross the border. I swear, I think you guys broke the record for distance. Still doesn't mean you can escape us."

"Please. Let us go." One of the Sprinters sobbed. "Queen Elsa would have let us leave!"

"Elsa is dead!" The captain snapped. "And she is not your queen anymore."

"Then that Southern shit Hans isn't my king, neither!" Another voice replied.

The captain gave a wave with his finger. "I guess not." He said.

A torrent of shots struck the Sprinters, blood and bullet holes covering the wall behind them. The whole wall itself had it's share of both of those, with the amount of people who had tried sprinting since the occupation began.

The captain turned, then noticed The Gardener.

"What are you staring at?" He growled.

"The Southern Isles' finest." The Gardener growled back.

The captain stepped forwards. "We are _Arendelle's_ finest now, friend. And I suggest you keep moving before things end badly for you."

The Gardener shook his head. He had kept his head down ever since he arrived in this shithole town. He could keep it down for the rest of his days, and beyond. It was hopeless, anyways, with the number of guns aimed at him day in and day out.

He grabbed his barrow by the handles, and trundled off. In truth, he always felt the eyes on him. It was painfully obvious to him that Hans had sent men to keep an eye on him as he booked passage down the coast, and took up his residence within the town.

The streets were completely empty that night. Curfew was established on a few nights a week, but the bulletin boards gave the posting that week. Tonight, would not have nearly as strict a curfew, and The Gardener had a few hours before he would need to be inside his home, or shot.

Everything about what he was doing, and why he had come here angered him to no end. And whatever claims Hans had made about his citizens, about how his plans and his vision for Arendelle would fix it for good, it was only making things worse. He saw that in the eyes of those citizens he watched from the street, looking out the window and shutting their curtains to him, only passing by with his wheelbarrow of dead plants. The guards were supposed to protect the citizens of Arendelle, not kill those who tried to leave. Did the southern fuck know about what his troops were doing? Or was he truly blind to the evil that his family was committing? Neither would have shocked The Gardener.

His home was close by to one of the only taverns that was still operating after the occupation: The Twelve Spades Pub. He almost considered going inside to have a drink after the day that he had had, but decided against it. Drinking didn't solve the kinds of problems that he had. Nothing he could do seemed to make much of a difference. The only thing he could do was what the rest of those in their home did. Keep his head down, and hope that the best would come one day. Though he was losing hope fast, even if there was close to none of that to begin with.

He felt more eyes on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw a guard walking across a nearby rooftop, away from where he stood. The Gardener only kept walking down the street, turning the corner to where his little flat and the tavern stood.

The door was a fine wooden one, chipped in a few places, with a triangular window at his head's level. The Gardener took his key out of his pocket, also pulling out his identification paper with it. Shivering as he felt a few snowflakes coming down, he unlocked his door. He looked up at the surrounding rooftops for guards, and when he saw none, he opened the door, and went inside to the warmth of his new humble abode.

* * *

Indeed, there _were_ eyes upon The Gardener. There had been for close to a month, but they were not eyes under the orders of Hans. The eyes belonged to two figures wearing simple merchants' clothes from a stand that they were just closing down, nearby. Something that they had been doing to raise what little Vytropi they had.

The shorter one had long black hair, tied back in a bun behind his head. His face would not have been a welcome sight if the guards came. He had darker skin than those who Hans still considered to be his loyal subjects. It was grim news for them to discover this, and more so grim when they found out what day it had been when they arrived in the bleak town of occupation.

The taller one had a grim expression on his face. It fit him like the stick that he had kept strapped to his belt. His hair was shaved close to his head, in an effort to hide his name and his face. But if they both wore the garb which truly hid their identities, it would send every troop in Arendelle and the Southern Isles to where they stood. Here they had hid, and here they would continue to hide until the time was right.

"He'll do." The taller one said.

"Elsa told me he was the strongest man she ever knew." The shorter one whispered. "You think he'd be willing to make a stand against those assholes?"

"This won't be a stand in the bright of day, Zar." The taller one said. "We made grave mistakes in our recent years in this kingdom. We must evolve for the better. Keep to all three tenets, and think of little else."

The shorter one nodded. "Alright. So, this guy, Terej, first?"

"Yeah." He said, rubbing his stubbled chin in thought. "We'll find a few others. And rebuild our branch from the hole that we've fallen into."

With their stand closed down for the night, the shorter one began to carry some of the boxes for the tavern. The taller one meanwhile, began to walk in another direction.

"Connor-"

"I'll be fine, Zar." He said, beginning to climb the side of the building he stood beside.

The shorter one shrugged, then headed inside to the tavern.

Four months. Four months of an occupation where the Templars were already beginning to crush the life out of every Arendelle citizen under their boots. The news only got bleaker and bleaker with each passing day, and he realized that it may have been too late for him to relearn the Creed. Everything he had heard only confirmed the worst. Arendelle's castle town was under total lockdown, no one coming in or out, aside from supply deliveries. Those shipments were of the highest security, with no inch of any shipment left unchecked. No way for them to get in and try to kill Hans.

Killing Hans wouldn't even solve anything, anyway. He was there as King with the support of his own father, King Elias. They had learned that another one of his brothers was dead, and Hans had used this death to only discredit the Assassins further. Their hopes to try to do everything that they were planning on fighting so hard for had failed miserably.

But they had to act sometime. And the first steps were small ones that they were taking. Raising funds, slowly but surely, and watching this man, Terej, from a distance. They would strike, eventually.

Soon, the man reached the top of the tower, looking out at the town. The night air was chilled, and he could see the light of the moon reflecting off the water. It would be the full moon that night, giving Anna and Elsa the job of keeping Red in their rooms.

It was all fallen apart. The pieces of the puzzle lay scattered on the floor in front of them. But they had to start somewhere. And they had to send some sort of message to the people of Arendelle: Their Queen was alive. Their liberation would come. The Isles would fall.

There would be a war. It would be fought hard, but it would have to be fought.

The Assassin knelt down on the edge of the tower, and looked out at the town. At dawn, their fight would begin.

* * *

 _Ubisoft Presents_

 _In Association with ABC-Disney Studios_

 _Kit Harington_

 ** _Assassin's Creed: Resurrection_**

 _Starring Elizabeth Lail as Anna_

 _Carlos Valdes as Zar_

 _Georgina Haig as Elsa_

 _Scott Michael Foster as Kristoff_

 _Meghan Ory as Red_

 _Conor McGregor as Thayer_

 _Jerome Flynn as Matthew_

 _Daniel Portman as Torren_

 _Cary Elwes as Keif_

 _Sean Dagher as Kevan_

 _Iwan Rheon as Jerred_

 _Travis Willingham as Terej_

 _Laura Bailey as Levonne_

 _With Tyler Jacob Moore as Hans_

 _John Barrowman as General Tobias_

 _And Sam Worthington as Daniel_

* * *

 **A/N: I am so proud to bring the next chapter in this long, ongoing series that I have been working on for the last few years. If you are just joining the story here, I highly recommend you read the first installment, Assassin's Creed: Faith. Otherwise, you'll have no idea who Asgeir or any of the Arendelle Assassins are in this original story set after the events of Once Upon a Time's first half of Season 4. But to all my veteran readers, I give the warmest of welcomes. I have a schedule planned for this new story, with new chapters planned to be released near the end of every month. Sometimes it will be one chapter, other times it will be more. But I will do everything I can to bring new updates at the end of every month, starting now. This is one story that I have had planned for years, and I am so excited to have finally reached this point in the story. I hope you deeply enjoy this story which I have declared my love letter for Assassin's Creed.**


	2. Chapter 2: Terej I

**A/N: Whoops. That was not meant to happen, me coming in late. But it has brought about something new that I am planning for Resurrection. Where most times I would delay an update to provide a big amount of chapters, I try a system where I update as much content as I can provide at the end of every month. With this, I sadly only have one chapter since the school year has slammed me with assignments in all directions. I am having fun developing characters and story arcs that I have been waiting for years to make. I don't exaggerate at all when I say that this is the story that I have been waiting to tell. As for how this story is told, that is something I am borrowing from Game of Thrones. Every chapter is told out of the perspective of a different character, and is told directly from their perspective. Asgeir is among one of these characters that will narrate chapters in his eyes, but you will also see chapters in the eyes of Troy, Zar, and several of the new characters I am introducing. All of which I hope will bring about an AC story unlike any other, with balanced and unique perspectives brought to the table.**

 **I did hear recently that Once is ending for good this season. As someone that has quit for a long time, and has only seen clips in passing, this is a wise decision. Someone must have seen that shit just went sideways with the whole show and decided to pull the plug. I might consider watching the end of the whole show, even if it might be confusing for me. I'm just glad that someone is putting the show out of it's misery before it really goes off the deep end.**

 **Hey! I managed to get Assassin's Creed Origins for Christmas, and I loved it! It doesn't hold the same sort of emotional gravity that I felt older entries in the series carried, but what I found was that the game basically made an Assassin's Creed game mixed with Skyrim. I'm glad that the devs took a year off and ended up making the best entry in the series since Black Flag. AC Origins for me gets a 9.5/10.**

* * *

 _Begin Sequence 1: The Steel's Edge_

Chapter 2: Terej I

 _February 1789_

* * *

My time as a gardener was usually much more productive this time of year. But now, I didn't know what to do. Queen Elsa, recognizing my love for my work, had ways of keeping me busy during the winter time. Most nights, it was extracting seeds out of the clipping from the previous year, getting them ready for when spring came. I had a routine. A routine ultimately destroyed with this uprooting.

Everything had been taken away from me when Hans dismissed me. I had no living family, and all of my friends were either trapped within Arendelle's castle town, or most likely dead. All I had was my work, and he had to take that away from me, too.

People throughout the town looked on me with suspicion. Every day, I wheeled my barrow through the town, finding a new place to sit and go through my cuttings. I wanted spring to come sooner than ever; all the snow made me think of that poor girl and her sister.

The Southerner snake… she had done nothing to him before all of this. Before her true nature as the Ice Queen was unveiled, he had arrived in our kingdom with the very plan to murder her and take the throne. And now they both were indeed dead, and his spoiled ass polishing the throne.

This evening was a cold one, indeed. I only hated the cold because it gave me little to do. All this time, all this effort that I put into my work, and all I could do was sit and wait for the frost to melt. The cuttings I had harvested the seeds was running low. Soon enough, all I would be able to do would be to put the seeds away, and wait for spring.

With the amount of cuttings I had left running out, I found myself spending more and more time in the Twelve Spades. It was the only place that I felt the occupation hadn't completely ruined. But some nights I felt just as much unease as I did on the streets. I always felt like someone was watching me, so I assumed that whoever those eyes belonged to, they worked for Hans.

That night, I came in with more dread than ever before. Truthfully, my unease only grew every night, making every day worse than the last. I wanted to just let everything slide, but I couldn't. I had to stand by and let everything happen, knowing full well I could never take on an empire myself.

Filip spotted me from the bar, and poured out my usual pint as I took my seat, right at the corner of the table.

"Things going alright there, Terej?" He asked, laying a cloth down, and wiping up a stain on the grained wood. It looked to have been recently polished.

"Oh, just dandy." I replied. "Yeah… just a blast."

Filip understood, and said no more as he went about the rest of his duties.

An older man came up to the bar, holding out his drinking horn.

"Another, Flilip." He said.

"Aye. I gotcha, Kevan." He said, taking it. "How's business been for you guys?"

The older man shook his head. "Much to be desired, my friend. Much to be desired."

He went back to his table, leaving me to keep drinking alone.

The door creaked loudly open, letting in several snowflakes from the outside, and three unwelcome guards.

I turned, glaring over at them, but they didn't seem to notice me. Yet, they were familiar. They were some of the guards that I had seen executing that handful of Sprinters against the wall, last week. One of them wore the coat with gold trimmings that labelled him a captain of the guards. He was the one who had threatened me.

Filip rolled his eyes but maintained his business posture. "Welcome, gentlemen." He said. "Can I get you anything?"

"Three pints around." The captain said. "And information about your guests."

Filip put the mugs he had grabbed for them down. He didn't fill them. "What about them?"

"We heard reports you have a colored individual staying here." He said. "Likely from Agrabah or Corona decent."

Filip scowled. "No shit?" He said. "What sort of colored person?"

"Brown."

I damn near vomited in my mouth the way how the guard spoke about his race. Like it was some sort of curse word. It made no fucking difference, but these shitheads were cutting through people's time of leisure to interrogate us.

"Well, hypothetically, if such a man was staying here, he's not hurting anyone. I see no reason I should tell you about any hypothetical brown man living here."

"Oh, you're one of those individuals." The captain said. "Sympathizers. Lemme make this perfectly clear. We're here to protect you from them. Their presence interferes with King Hans' Vision. All they do is bring drugs and criminal scum into this kingdom."

Filip threw his hands up. "Have a look around. I'll even give you the tour."

"That won't be necessary." He shot back. "Only a look around down here."

I turned in my seat as I watched them strut throughout the floor, weaving in and out of the tables. Everything inside this place was fine until they barged in. Now everyone timidly eyed them like sheep, not a peep to be heard from every corner. I felt my knuckles crack with the fist I began to clench against my pint. I felt the mug begin to buckle in my hand.

The captain kept stomping out about the pub. His boots loudly clunked against the wooded floor, daring anyone to make a move against him. All he wanted was information on the "colored individual".

Then he stopped at one table in the corner opposite the door. The older man who last got a drink from Filip sat there, along with a younger woman with blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"What about you two?" He growled. "Know anything about a brown boy in here?"

The older man shivered a little, but glared up at him in anger. "No." He shakily replied. "Nothing this old man can tell you."

"Really. No sightings of any colored shitstains?" He snarled, grabbing him by the collar.

"That's enough."

The captain spun around, and every eye in the room turned. Right towards me.

"Excuse me?"

I sat up straighter. "I only mean, they don't fit the profile of who you're looking for. What makes you think they know where he is?"

The guard scoffed. "I will make that decision for myself, fucker. Back off."

He looked back down at the older man, still with his collar in his hand. "Now, tell me where the wetback is."

The older man scowled. "I fought alongside boys that were twice the men you Southerners are, ages ago. And you harass me, an old man, and call yourself soldiers. Nothing but the scum of the Southern Isles."

The guard tightened his grip on the man's collar. "We are Arendelle's finest!" He snarled. "And we will not leave until we have the shitstain that you lot are hiding!"

"There is no one here." I yelled across the table.

The guard whistled, having his two flunkies advance towards me, but not draw their weapons.

"I know you heard me." I snapped. I almost regretted what I said the second that it came out of my mouth. But there was no taking it back, now. "There's no one here for 'Arendelle's Finest' to throw in your cells, and parade around the streets. As though we need reminders from you that people who don't have asses as white as fresh lilies are demons from the seven hells. We all know it's a load of horse shit."

The captain let go of the older man, and started towards me. "You look familiar."

"Yeah." I replied. "You dragged three Sprinters up to the wall and shot them last week. I watched it all happen."

He grinned. "Aye. That's right. And I told you to move along before you got hurt. I give you the same warning for the last time."

I chuckled, looking down at my pint, chugging it back. Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I kept walking up to him.

"You know why people are called Sprinters? It takes so long for people of certain groups to get nicknames, but it's taken four months of this bullshit occupation to give them the name."

"Aye. We gave those cowards the names. Because it happens so often. And because it makes sense."

"Aye. _It happens so often_ , one might think that they don't like it here. _It happens so often_ , one might think they hate it here." I snapped. "I hear most of them know fully well they might not make it across to Corona, but they'll run anyways. Because they hate it here so much, they'd rather risk dying than stay here another second."

"They just can't get over Elsa's tragic death." He sneered. "They can't see all the good King Hans has done for them."

"What good?" I asked. "Tell me right here what 'Saint Muttonchops' has done for the greater good for this kingdom."

"I will tell you, once you come with us." The captain snapped. "You shut your mouth, and we throw you into the hole, instead. No one needs to hear your filth."

I tossed the mug down, cracking it and spilling what little ale was left onto the bottom of his trousers. Tiny bubbles and foam caked around the soles of his muddy boots. "Fuck the King."

Instantly, the other two guards lunged for me. Jumping backwards, I swung my arm wide, clocking the smaller one right in the ear. He yelped out in pain, clutching his ear as I knew it was ringing.

The other guard successfully jumped for me, and began to squeeze down on my throat as he wrapped both his hands around my neck. I could feel the blood building in my head as I struggled to gasp for air. Like a can with too much water, fit to burst. I kept on struggling, but then realized that he was trying to stop me from going one way. So I went the other, my weight throwing him off balance, before I managed to pin him to the ground, and hammer my fist down into his jaw, his bones breaking like twigs.

The other guard was just getting over his ear ringing, when he looked down, and saw the shattered jaw of his partner. The captain, meanwhile, let go of the older man, and began to stalk towards me as the patrons began screaming running out of the bar in fright.

"You have committed crimes against Arendelle and her-"

"Oh, shut up!" I snarled, grabbing a bottle I saw on the bar table, grabbing the guard I had hit in the ear, threating to break the rum over the scoundrel's head.

The captain was about to draw his sword, when he suddenly gasped, and coughed up a wad of blood that sprayed across the pub, and into my face. I saw his entire body convulse, and then he fell to the ground. A rope was sticking out the back of his neck, where I saw the other end of it was held by the older man.

"And stay down!" He snapped, yanking out the rope. With precision of the most agile man, a knife that was tied to the rope suddenly leapt from the back of the guard's throat, where the older man swung the rope around his arm, rapidly coiling it around his wrist.

"Assa-" The younger guard was about to say, when I broke the bottle over his head. Sweet, spicy rum sprayed all over the both of us as glass shattered, and I raised my fists above his head.

"Wait!" The older man cried. "Does he serve with blind faith?"

I looked up at him. "What?"

"Does he serve Hans willingly? Would he die for his cause?"

"Blow off, choffer." The guard below me spat out a few broken teeth, and blood to go with it. "Your people are below us. I do what I'm meant for, ensuring you all stay in line!"

Even at my mercy, and still this scum would speak such ungodly words about us? I understood now that the old man would have asked if I would spare him, had he said he served only because he had no choice. But clearly, he did.

I cracked my neck. "And now you'll be below us, rotting in the ground."

* * *

Filip looked down at the guard's body, his head smashed to a pulp, almost completely absent from his body. My anger built up over the last few months had finally come to a head, and I felt some infernal fury reach the surface, killing three guards in a manner of minutes.

"Gods be good, Terej. You have quite the temper." He said as two of the other barkeeps grabbed the bodies. All the other patrons were gone from the bar.

"It's what those bastards get for treading in waters they weren't welcome." I replied, looking over to the two patrons. "Are you both alright?"

The older man stood up. "I thank you deeply, kind sir." He replied. "I was afraid for a moment, there."

I was confused. "What would you have been afraid for? You killed the captain unlike any other soul I have seen before with that… thing."

The older man kept silent, while I turned to Filip.

"They're gonna see us hang for this." I said. "Once they find the bodies, or someone squeals."

"No, they won't." Filip replied. "I've got my ways on hiding them. And no one who witnessed this will sell out another of Molrum."

"Can you be sure of that?" I said, turning and looking down at the other two bodies.

"Sure, as I need to be, Terej. Now, then."

I heard a click, and spun around. Filip was holding a pistol to my face.

"Filip!"

The woman the older man was with stood up. He eyes were hazel, very much in the shade of chocolates. "What do you do for a living, Mister Terej?" She asked.

I glanced at her. "Nothing, ma'am." I replied. "Nothing since Hans' occupation began."

"And what did you do before all of this?"

Something about her mannerism made me stand up straight. She had a commanding posture about her. Even the older man seemed to act the same about her presence.

"I was the royal gardener." I replied, almost beginning to relax. Talking about my work almost always made me smile. "Made displays in the gardens of Arendelle's castle that had lords and ladies from all over the realm come to admire. I took a lot of pride in it!"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I've seen these displays for myself, years before. You're telling me one man did all of that? A man?"

I nodded, still feeling the presence of Filip's pistol aimed right into my eye. In the corner of the pub, over by the stairs, I could see several pairs of feet coming down.

"I may be a man, but I appreciate the delicacy of nature! There should be no sex or identity that appreciates flowers more than another. What does it matter, anyway?" I explained. "And all the same, I was dismissed by King Hans because I previously served Queen Elsa!"

She cocked her head. "King Hans? You call him King?" Her voice became very forceful, and very intimidating.

"He is no King to me! I misspoke." I said, quickly. "I want that little sideburned shitstain to rot in seven hells for what he did to this great land!"

"I'm sure you did misspoke." She replied. "But then, I must ask you something. And you must answer as honest as you possibly can." She gestured to Filip. "He'll know if you lie. And he doesn't even need a second to deliver a shot through your skull."

"Answer what?"

"If you had the chance, would you fight for Queen Elsa?"

I stared hard at her. It was no question to me.

"Yes. They are dead, but their souls live on through their people. If there were others that would take me, I would fight to take Hans' royal ass off the throne of Arendelle."

The woman looked over to the older man, then to Filip, and finally, to the stairs. Then she raised her hand.

Filip lowered his pistol, and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm sorry about that, Terej."

"What?"

"You two." He said, ignoring me. "Bar all the doors and lock all the windows."

The barkeeps did as they were told as the older man and the woman headed for the stairs. Two new people stood at the foot of them.

It was then that I noticed one of them had to have been the man that the guards were looking for. He had darker skin, and long dark hair tied up in a small bun behind his head. He beckoned us upstairs while the taller one eyed me.

He looked eerily familiar. His face had several scars in various directions from cheek, to eye, and from eyebrow to lip. His hair had been shaved close to his head, only leaving a hint of black hair grown out. A similar black stubble covered his cheeks.

"This way, Terej." Filip instructed, pushing me to the stairs.

I only looked around with concern as everyone within the pub led me up the stairs. I kept looking at the blonde, and the tall, shave-headed fellow. But I said nothing until Filip took us up to a big room at the top of the inn.

Inside the room, a single window showed to the outside. We were right under the roof of the building. A large candle burned in each corner, and one of the walls was taken up entirely of portraits. Portraits of…

"The Southern Isle princes." I realized.

"Quiet." Filip whispered as everyone filed in.

A large table was in the center of the room. Various items littered it's top, but I could make out the maps of Arendelle, Corona, and the Southern Isles. In the center of the room, close by to the map table, a post stood where various knives stuck out by their handles. What was this place?

I was about to get my answers.

"Joan!" The woman called down the hall. "Come on."

A girl with black hair tied in a ponytail ducked into the room, whereas the blonde locked the door behind them.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, losing patience.

"A second chance, Terej." The shave-headed man said. "We've been watching you since we returned."

"Watching me?" I said, shocked. "I've felt eyes on me for so long. Eyes belonging to Hans!"

"Hans believed you were a threat only as long as you stayed within Arendelle's castle town." He said. "No longer, with so many leagues separating the two of you."

"And why have you been watching me?" I asked.

"You're the strongest man I've ever known, Terej." The woman said, Joan taking a seat next to her.

I stood up in fear. "I don't understand this shit. I've never met any of you people before! You've been watching me, you've been testing me. You ask me questions about two dead girls."

"Are they truly dead?"

I glimpsed to the tall man. "They are. If they weren't this kingdom would have known by now."

"Look again." He pointed to the women.

I did. And then, something familiar about Joan seemed to surface. Her hair was a lot darker than before, but I did see something about her.

"P-P-Princess Anna? Seven hells!"

She grinned, standing up. It looked as though her hair had been dyed, which was a wise move for them. "Good to see you again, Terej."

The blonde then reached under the collar of her dress, and pulled off a necklace. Her hair lightened to an almost-white blonde, and her eyes turned icy blue. Her very appearance before me changed into someone else I recognized.

"My Queen!" I suddenly dropped to my knees. I at least remembered courtesies to those who earned it. They were alive! My queen and princess were alive!

"I'm not your lawful queen anymore, Terej. But that'll do." She gestured for me to stand.

"We met a long time ago, Terej." The tall man said, rubbing his hand through his short hair. "But I don't blame you for not recognizing me."

It dawned on me. "Connor! The Royal Spymaster!"

He shrugged. "Well, that- Okay, we will need to-" He kept stopping himself.

I looked around. The two barkeeps even came inside, so I could imagine that whatever was going on, they were in on it.

"Hans told Arendelle he killed you. After you killed the girls." I looked around. "What really happened? He's lied to the whole kingdom if you're still alive while he sits on the throne."

"We'll need to catch him up on everything, I suppose." Connor said. He appeared to be thinking deeply. He looked over at the two bartenders walking into the room. "Rory, Keif, you with us?"

"Aye. Let's get started."

"Where would we even start?" Elsa asked.

"The beginning." I said. "Start from the beginning, if it's a lot to explain."

Connor sat down at the head of the table, as every other soul in the room took seats around the makeshift war table.

"Did you know King Agdar and Queen Gerda well, Terej?" Connor asked.

"No, sir." I replied. "I started working for them the year before their shipwreck. Didn't know much."

"So, you weren't aware of their firstborn?"

I was confused. I thought Elsa was the firstborn of the royal family.

"Their first child was stillborn." He explained. "A boy, born in the midst of the coldest winter in a lifetime. They had no heirs until three years later, when Queen Elsa was born."

"So, there was a boy that never made it out of Queen Gerda's womb. What does that have to do with anything?" I mildly remembered hearing something about this in passing when I was a lad. I was

"The child lived." Connor replied. "But he was not the son of the King. He was the son of the legendary White Reaper of Arendelle. So, the King brought the child out to the woods, and left him in the snow and ice to die."

"A bastard?" I realized. "A bastard son?"

"What do you know of bastards? Literal ones." Connor asked.

"Those born to nobles are branded." I said, remembering what little he had been taught in history class as a child. "A diagonal slash across the back of the hand."

With that, Connor pulled the glove off of his hand. I only just noticed it, woolen, and without fingers.

I felt my heart stop as I realized what the slash on his own hand meant. All this time, and it turned out that he had joined Elsa's council, an outsider from thin air, only because he wanted to be closer to his family.

"My name is Asgeir Daniel Cormac, Terej. And this is only the beginning."

* * *

It was a lot for me to take in. Indeed, Asgeir appeared to be a part of these "Assassins" that Hans spoke of. But there was plenty that Lord Muttonchops had left out. Then there was this talk about how they has spent the better part of thirty years, during the length of the Deep Freeze, in a "Land Without Magic".

"Hans and his family are members of the Templar Order." He explained. "They've sought absolute control over all of humanity, and they're really close to it, now. With Arendelle in their pocket, and all the armies under their control, they'll have this half of the world by the next Winter Solstice."

I turned to look over at the wall of portraits. It seemed that they had been doing their research, at least.

"So, this is a rebel movement." I said.

"It's what we would call ourselves." Elsa admitted. "We would declare war on Hans, and he's King of Arendelle, now."

"And why has it taken so long for a movement to be started yet?"

"We're only under a dozen strong, and have more guns than men to shoot them." Asgeir said. "And…"

He grimaced as he folded his hands together.

"Three days. After Hans threw Anna and Kristoff into the trunk overboard, they crossed oceans of time and space to come to another realm. A Land Without Magic." He picked up one of the pawns on the table. "Elsa and I were already there. Us and the Assassins. We came back after Anna and Kristoff spent close to three days in that world. We thought that three days had passed here. We were wrong. Through some warp in the fabric of reality that we passed through when we came back, _three months_ had passed, not days. It took us a while for us to notice what had happened, but by the time we did, we were trapped here in Molrum. The blockade had already been tight around the town and its waters before, but it has increased in it's strength in the last month. Zar here can't go outside because of his skin color. Anna had to dye her hair black, I had to cut my hair short, and Elsa uses a charm that we found to keep herself hidden."

"Then what would be the point to it all?" I asked. "If Hans has already one, then what would a dozen of us be able to reach by standing against an entire empire?"

Asgeir grinned. "You don't know the Assassins, Terej. So much bigger machines have been toppled by the hands of a single mortal soul. We all swore oaths on this table when we gathered here under this roof for the first time. All of us will destroy Hans and the Templars to retake the Arendelle throne, or we will die trying."

Anna shivered. "Hopefully not dying in the process?"

"Aye, Anna. Hopefully not." Asgeir said. He pointed to the post with daggers sticking out of us. "A long time ago, one Assassin brought a tradition of his people to our order: when his people went to war, a hatchet would be buried in a post. Each one of us Assassins did the same as we declared our allegiance to Elsa, and the Arendelle Loyalists."

I looked over at the table. Indeed, I could see close to about the same amount of daggers in the post as there were people in the room. Close to it, but not including me.

Asgeir drew out another dagger, and handed it to me. "We here dedicate our lives to protecting the freedom of humanity. Now I offer the choice to you."

I was a man grown. Far past my youth. I'd be reaching forty before long. Hell, this Asgeir was only a kid from what I saw. Not that much older than Elsa or Anna. Yet, he had a vision. He had a path he could offer me. And with no other future in sight for me, I would gladly accept. Yet, I held the dagger, and did not move as I looked down at it, and then to the post. If I stabbed it into the wood, it would be the ninth one. I didn't know if I could make the decision.

Asgeir nodded. "Aye. You need some time to think?"

"Indeed." I replied.

"Then, keep the dagger, at least. Make the choice when you're ready."

I pocketed the dagger, then looked up at the grim bastard.

"Where do we start?" I asked.

"Even we are not sure of that." Elsa said, as a woman in a red hood came into the room. She and I locked eyes for a moment, but I understood after the moment was over that she was part of this operation.

"The resources, finances, and hands that the Templars have is impressive." Asgeir said. "But unlike so many other Assassins in our position before, Ezio Auditore, Altair, and even the Frye Twins, we know all our targets, what they do, and what they hold up in this machine of theirs. We have the map to the 'X'. It's getting there that will be the kicker."

He pointed to the wall and walked me through each of the Princes. I only knew about five of them to start, but the gaps were filled instantly. Two of the portraits had bright red paint crossing out their faces.

"Klaus, crown Prince to the throne of the Southern Isles." He pointed. "With King Elias on his deathbed, his coronation will no doubt come by the end of this year.

"Admiral Prince Viktor, second in line, and high commander of the Southern Isles' Navy. General Prince Nikolaus, commander and tactician of the ground troops. Prince Fredbjorn, who our sources say has handled finances for the royal family for the last five years. He has a way with numbers."

Asgeir lingered his pointing finger to the portrait of a large bald man, with a thick goatee. There almost seemed to be a sense of… regret? Regret on his face.

"Prince Frans, Captain of the Gemini. He's also in charge of the naval blockades around every Arendelle settlement on the coast. Prince Alex, sixth in line, and heading weapons development for the troops. With this new occupation that they've put on the kingdom, Hans has been pushing this brother for as many new weapons as they can manage. I reckon there's a massive amount of blueprints for war machines he's assembled.

"High Overseer Ivan, leader of the Abbey. We've heard his Vice Overseer Prince William is dead already. Which means they're on high alert and cracking down on devotion to their faith. Prince Grant, the doctor. He works hard as a healer in the Isles." He paused, giving a similar sort of face to Frans. "He works hard, but he'll have to die, just like the rest of them." He said, backing up and sitting on top of the table.

A mustached man near Asgeir continued. "Prince Lars, ninth in line, and heading research with Alex. They both are helping the Southern Isles develop weapons that'll ensure Arendelle's oppression for a thousand more years. Prince Robert, the Judge and lawmaker of the Isles. And…"

"The man himself." I finished, looking up at the painting. Whoever did these portraits perfectly captured the smug grin of King Hans. Everything that he was, everything that he had claimed to be, it was all a lie.

Anna scowled up at his portrait, too. "I thought we were done with fighting. And then he came back."

"It's the life we lead, Anna." Elsa said. "There will always be enemies ready to strike against us. We may never find rest."

Asgeir glimpsed at his half-sisters, and then to the mustached man.

"So, what are we to do?" I asked.

He turned to me. "We start small. We start quiet. Hans doesn't know that we're alive, and preparing to strike against him. An opportunity will come, but we will have to wait for it, and then strike at a moment's notice."

I looked up at the portraits. "Nothing? We do nothing?"

"No, we wait." He explained. "Shooting without a plan, or a clear sight will only end bad for us."

"Then, what am I doing here?"

Elsa came over to me. She no longer wore the light blue gown that she had adopted as her style. Forced to blend into society, she and her sister now wore rough spun peasant's clothes.

"You're here to help us, Terej." She said. "Our kingdom will prosper for another millennia, or reach a state of despair and suffering for eternity. This fate will be decided in the war to come. And I believe there are those of talent, of knowledge, and of strength who will have a part to play in it."

I glanced about the room. These were all outcasts, runaways, and cutthroats. All with a purpose driven not by gold, by glory, but by…

"You said you fought for freedom." I said. "Then why are you fighting this king to sit this queen on the throne?"

Asgeir shook his head. "Hans is a tyrant. Hans is a scoundrel. Hans wants to craft his individual vision of what he thinks the world should be like. But the world exists so that everyone can make their own choices. And there is only one queen who can rule Arendelle, yet ensure freedom for her people." He pointed at Elsa. "In either case, Hans forgets one rule on how this world works, as have the citizens of Arendelle: Citizens shouldn't serve or fear their monarchs. It should be the reverse."

The mustached man cleared his throat. "This isn't entirely about sitting Elsa on the throne. It's about saving the people of Arendelle, first and foremost."

"And you need me for this." I said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. "Me, the gardener of the Arendelle Palace?"

Asgeir sighed. "Yeah. We suffered extreme losses a month ago in the other world. We need to rebuild. Now, I tell you, Terej. We have been watching you and observing for the last month, after finding Arendelle in ruins and time passed much quicker than we would have wanted. We need your help. Desperately."

"Quick frankly, it's amazing that so much time passed through this warp." The mustached man said. "If it had been only three days, we would have had things back to the way they were like that." He snapped his fingers.

I looked down at the map. "You'll give me time to think on this, Your Majesty?"

"As much time as you need." Elsa replied. "And I can reassure you that if you turn the offer down, no harm will come to you. We don't kill bystanders to make a point."

I nodded. "Indeed, that is reassuring." I said. "Thank you."

Nothing else I could really say, or do. So I turned, and headed for the door, seeing myself out.

Someone else was in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"So they finally went about recruiting you." He said.

He was tall and very well built. Not nearly as tall as me, but I instantly recognized him.

"Reindeer Boy." I chuckled. "Was wondering where you ended up, too."

Kristoff shook his head. "Not Reindeer Boy at the moment." He said. "We got no idea where Sven is, along with two of our Assassins or Olaf. That's part of a long list of stuff we have to take care of."

"Shit… Sorry to hear that. What are you doing out there instead of in the war room with the rest of them?"

Kristoff sighed. "Something General Nelsen said last time I was at a meeting with Elsa. Said I had no place in meetings of that importance as I was only the Ice Master and Deliverer."

"Funny." I murmured. "That was the whole reason I didn't think I should have been part of this fight. I was only the gardener, after all. I would have considered myself lucky if they remembered my name, but the fact that they are turning to me in the darkest hour says something. We're both only servants of those two girls, but they're counting on us all the same."

Kristoff shrugged. "I guess. It's their brother that keeps me out of these meetings."

"He doesn't trust you?" I said, confused.

"No, I don't trust him. He's a killer. The whole lot of them are. He pushed his way in here, and he said a lot about how their Aunt Ingrid wasn't to be trusted. Is he all that different?"

I glimpsed back at the door. I wasn't a killer. But would I still be able to join this cause for my Queen?

"Fair enough." I replied, heading for the stairs.

* * *

I pulled my head up from the pull of gravity, looking down at the footlocker at my bed. Back in my home, after all of this. It was well past midnight, but I knew I was not sleeping anytime soon. I would probably not sleep for a week, knowing what I did. Hope had been lost for me for all of this time, as it had been for the people of Arendelle. But our Queen was alive. And she, with these Assassins, were preparing to strike back.

I was still very worried about what would happen concerning those dead guards. Someone in that pub would squeal. I just knew that they would, somehow, someday. And then I'd truly be fucked when someone would put a name to my face.

I realized just how futile and desperate things were turning for me in the process of the last hours. The last short, but very eventful, hours. Getting up from my bed, I walked around to the foot and threw open the lid to my footlocker.

I was not going to leave behind everything that rightfully belonged to me. I was certain that after several months of his regime, Hans had never noticed that I had taken a whole shed's worth of garden tools with me to Molrum. If he had, he would have sent guards down to kill me. But Agdar had told me when I started working for him all those years ago that the tools that were in that shed rightfully belonged to me, as part of my work for him and his wife. A shovel, trowels, cultivators.

Many of the other tools were bladed, including a billhook saw, and a machete. But I never took them out in the last few months; tools like those, with blades as large and as sharp as those, had been classified as illegal weapons by Hans' new laws placed on us.

I could sit by. Keep my head down, and in the process, keep it on my shoulders for a few more years while the Assassins had their war with Hans and his demons. But for a few more years of what?

More of what I had been given for the last few months. More of the same. Nothing worth fighting for, or in my case, not fighting for. I could not be sure that what I wanted to do would be the right call. To me, this fight against Hans would be personal, after he had taken what I loved from me, purely out of some paranoia induced frenzy. But now I had a chance to fight for my Queen, someone I truly believed in.

I could still remember that day as clear as any other recent memory. The day of her coronation, where I was given a whole team of gardeners to lead in the displays. I had only seen her in passing on occasion, so it was a big day for me, as well as the whole kingdom. Things could change after that day.

But my hard work was all for nothing when the snows came. I wasn't in the ballroom at the time when she lost control, but I was out in the courtyards. I was showing the guests some of my better displays, talking them through my process and how I saw my vision through. Then I heard screams come from down in the main courtyard, and then the fountains began to freeze. Then the fjord did the same. And lastly, the sky became thick with stormclouds, and snow began to fall.

Did Hans even remember that we met once? While I was trying to cover up the gardens from the snow, he did all he could to try to stop me. He told me the flowers would grow back, but there was more need for staff hands to help give out blankets and soup.

As I ran my fingers down the blade of my machete, I understood now what he was thinking at the time. He saw my work as worthless and needed me to help advance his agenda with the poor. Pathetic.

The intense anger for the Southerner shit returned to me. But something felt different among all of this. That boy, Asgeir. He claimed he had faced off with Hans. He claimed he gave the prick that scar. He had more reason to hate Hans from what little of the stories he had told me of the Assassins. But he wasn't fighting for revenge against him. He was fighting because the people of Arendelle were doomed without Elsa, and they needed her more than ever.

I closed the lid to the trunk. Remembering Asgeir's instructions, I took the blade of my machete, and quickly carved a poor imitation of the symbol that he had showed me. It almost looked like a child's first attempt to write the letter "A". But it would have to suffice. I couldn't carry the rest of these tools out in the open myself.

Looking about my room, I sheathed the two blades, then strapped them onto my back. Then I grabbed my coat, slipping it on. I could at least carry these under the coat, the guards none the wiser.

The snow was beginning to come down hard as I opened my front door from the bottom of the stairs, and headed out into the streets. From across the street, I saw a group of guards trudging through… heading in my direction.

"This is a messenger's job." One of them grumbled.

"Enough, George." The captain of them said. "Lord Harding needs a whole group of us to receive such a message. You've seen how…" He noticed me, then lowered his voice as they kept walking. But I could still hear what they were saying. "How difficult he's been for us."

I turned around, taking my keys out. They needed to think that I wasn't eavesdropping. I didn't know exactly what I needed to do, but I figured that there needed to be some action.

One of the guards then turned to a lamp post, and hung a notice up to it as the rest of his gang kept walking. As soon as they were gone, I took note of which way they were heading. Indeed, the way they were taking suggested they were headed up to Lord Henry Harding's manor. One of Elsa's close supporters during her reign, but the Assassins must have had their reasons for not contacting him if he didn't know she was alive.

The notice gave some more context as to why they were going there.

" _IMPORTANT NOTICE TO ALL CITIZENS OF MOLRUM: Mandatory Crown Taxes must be turned in to Lord Harding for collection by Monday, February 23rd. Long Live the King._ "

Lord Henry was a vocal opponent of taxing his citizens dry. But if this notice was going up with such a short time for people to pay their loving King, then it meant it wasn't his idea.

Hans would be sending one of his own to Molrum. Someone he would trust to ensure that the gold be turned to him, and in full.

I tore down the notice, and turned, walking back to the inn. We had work to do.


	3. Chapter 3: Asgeir I

**A/N: This was not my intention. Delaying a chapter never is. I've seen this story through for the last four years, and I have no intention of seeing it be cut short with no explanation, just as another fic that I have not finished. Unfortunately, the last few assignments of the semester nearly sucked all the life out of me, and by the time school was done and my practicum was starting up, I was so drained of my ability to write after spending the semester locked in a sound booth, at least six projects to work on at once. But the summer has now officially begun for me, and along with working for my tuition for next semester, I plan on seeing this as far as I can this summer. The plan remains the same: the next update comes in early August with as many chapters as I can post at once, and will try to remain as such monthly. I know how this story will end after having known it for three years, and will see this through to the bitter end. For now, enjoy this single chapter after a very long wait!**

* * *

Chapter 3: Asgeir I

 _February 1789_

I needed to sleep. But I couldn't. I rarely slept at all in the last month. And in fairness, the opportunity that we had been in a desperate need for since we got here was now before us. That would keep anyone up.

I wonder how a traumatized soldier would feel if he was cured of his PTSD overnight. Literally overnight. Would he truly feel better? Or would it be as though a bandage was yanked off with a pair of pliers, and he still felt the pain of it weeks afterward?

The soldier was me. For a little over a month, I had been cured completely of the Curse of Shattered Sight, and my immortality with it. But after so long, after so much time of not being able to age, or die, I felt… hollow.

There were things that I did. Things I had seen. Things that I would never be able to forget. And they would haunt me until the day that I died because of how much of it was my own fault.

What would people in my shoes do? Ezio and Altair both made writings in their troubled states. But they were much better writers than me. They made the Creed for what it would eventually become. I myself, I had turned it into a blood-soaked excuse to kill people who didn't deserve it.

I sat there, at a desk in the corner of the War Room. A candle burning down to it's stump beside me, it's mild warmth passing over me. The sky was cloudless that night, and the stars were out. I could feel the cold winter air passing right through the window, and to my bones.

For the last month, I felt there were things I needed to say. Things I needed to write. And for the last month, I had brought out the same notebook and quill, and seen myself leaving the paper blank, sitting there in my haunted uncertainty of what I would write, or what I would do with what I would write.

I was not the same person I had been so long ago. I knew the others were noticing. I was always Asgeir Cormac in the flesh, but deep down, I had become a third Asgeir with a new view of the world.

The first Asgeir was a brother, fully dedicated to the Creed and the well-being of his half-sisters, his last living family. The second was a madman, hellbent on hunting down the witch who took those sisters from him, and cursed him with eternal life, no end in sight to the pain or misery. And the third… who was I, now? I was still not sure of that. All I knew was that my bad habit of acting before thinking had gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past. And now all I seemed to do this past month was think. Think of what would happen to all of us once we made our move. The first move, which we were preparing at the exact moment.

I had sent Zar and Rory out that night. They were to scout Lord Harding's compound, possibly get a guard shift schedule, and find me a clear path into the manor to give me a clear shot to Hans' tax collector.

Matthew was still on his own job, trying to reach out to whatever contacts he could get in touch with outside of Molrum. Hopefully find wherever Troy and Rabbit had been taken to, if there was still a chance that they were alive. I had no feeling in my gut that told me they were still alive. Only a desire to be absolutely sure they were still with us.

Noticing an itch on the back of my head, I reached up and scratched. I still hadn't gotten used to the haircut I had given myself. Anna and Elsa both did what they could to hide their identities, Anna dying her hair black, and Elsa using the Clover. I decided I needed to chip my own part in by shaving my head down to the grain. Half of us would not be recognized on the streets anyways, but better safe than sorry.

I was also not used to the quiet I was feeling. For thirty years I could hear the voices in my head. They tormented me. They haunted me and went on often of how I failed everyone that I cared for. Now they were gone, and the silence only made me feel uncomfortable. It was as though I could only wait for Shay to appear once again, giving me this cocky version of my own sad reality.

I doubted this new revelation of my real name could give us any edge here. The name Cormac had been dead for two hundred years after Asgeir the First killed him. He saw to it personally that every public record that mentioned the Templar Grand Master was destroyed. Of course, the Templars carried their own documents on the Rogue, but he had done enough by erasing everything that was within the hands of the people of Arendelle. But I wondered what I could have been able to do if anyone knew who Shay Cormac was in this world, and what he would have been known for, so many years ago.

The post behind me, right beside the map table was adorned with daggers. Like a sadistic Christmas tree, it had seen it's newest addition three nights ago. We had let Terej go back home to think over our offer. He was gone not two hours before he walked right back into this room, with a pack stuffed with his belongings, and slammed the blade right into the post, bringing the total to nine active Assassins in the war. Nine lives that were likely destined to perish before Elsa sat the throne of Arendelle once again.

I was done lying to myself. I was still twenty-six in the flesh, but my mind was old and worn out. I supposed to myself that this was what Ezio felt in his final days. Hell, he too also felt himself struggling to write down the last few words that he would leave his beloved Sofia. I was tired. I was very tired.

More tired than I have ever felt in my entire prolonged life. But yet, I still could not sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Anna was alone in the women's room, which gave me the opportunity I was looking for.

"Asgeir." She exclaimed when she saw me. She had been reading.

"Anything good?" I asked.

She shrugged. "With the library at the palace as big as it was, I've read almost every book that's been published in the kingdom." She held the book up. "Just another boring book of legends. I've read this a bunch of times before."

I chuckled. She had her opinions, and she couldn't keep them to herself. I admired that about her. I recognized the book she was reading, and she was right. Just another book of legends.

Legends… not the truth. I knew the truth. Maybe a quarter of what was in that book happened, but not as the author put it. All those gods, Odin, Frigga, Thor, Sif, they were all real at some point. They were our Precursors. _Our_ Ones Who Came Before. But this kingdom was once Jotunheim, domain of the Frost Giants. And Elsa was their direct descendant.

And me… the visions that the curse showed me showed me much. A lot to process. Some essence of their magic was present within me. Nothing as strong as Elsa's ways with ice and snow. But it was what made me able to withstand Ingrid's magic so long ago. I reckon that I may have been more impervious to the cold than I previously believed, and no one ever noticed. Matthew didn't, my father didn't, no one. I would have to keep it that way. A lot of this wisdom that had been given to me, I would need to use sparingly. What now lay in my head was too much knowledge for one person.

"Something I've been meaning to give you." I said. "Something I've kept forgetting the last month."

"What is it?"

I drew the old blade. A rapier, finely forged by Keif, thirty years ago. Anna looked down at it, and then recognition hit her like a bullet.

"No."

"Anna-"

"The last time I held that sword, I was used as a puppet in Rumplestiltskin's plans to get the Hat. I don't need that sword, Asgeir. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, Anna." I replied. "That's why I'm giving it back to you. I held onto this for thirty years, protecting it as best I could. Because it was the last thing of yours that I had."

I held out the rapier by it's blade, the handle end pointed at Anna. She looked down on it, a somber expression that would look more fitting on Elsa's face painting her cheeks. She had named it Pick, like an ice pick. Though I also thought it looked like an extra-large metal toothpick.

"I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Neither does Elsa." I replied. "The problem is that our enemies don't have an issue with killing us. Some of them would even grin to get their chance with you. You think Hans is going to be willing to negotiate after everything that he has done to our family? He's done everything to this kingdom to cement his claim on the throne, and he's done it while he believes that we're dead. If he knew that we were alive…"

Hesitantly, Anna took Pick with one hand, gingerly taking the sheathe with one hand, and clipping it to her belt.

"You still know how to use it, right?" I asked.

"Yeah. I stab them with the sharp end."

"Attagirl."

Then Anna looked down at my own belt. "But where are yours? The cutlasses you had names for?"

I looked down, completely forgetting what she was talking about. Then I remembered.

"Lost them." I said. "Got captured by Templars who stole them away. Never saw them again. Along with that harmonica you gave me."

Anna looked as though she might cry. But she held back a bit.

"Do you know who they worked for?"

"Yeah." I said. "They captured me under the orders of Queen Regina."

"That Evil Queen from Misthaven? But we saw her back in Storybrooke. Why didn't you ever ask for them back?"

I shrugged, walking over to the window. This window faced the street, where I could clearly make out the stalls of the market below, all under the ever-present eye of at least four guards on the rooftops, rifles drawn.

"I had… I lost a lot of my love for sentimentality during those years of exile." I said. "All that time before everything, before Ingrid, I had been a sentimental person. I was someone who cared deeply for everything and everyone." I turned back to Anna. "And look what it got me. It may have been only five minutes or so for you, Anna, that you were frozen. But it was eternity for me."

Anna looked over at me uncertainly, clutching onto Pick's handle nervously. I knew she wasn't afraid that I would hurt her. She was only at understandable unease.

"And yet, some part of me may have never been able to move on from you and Elsa. I last remember putting that sword into a locker in the Assassin safehouse I was using, and never seeing it again until Storybrooke. William Miles left me a truck with every one of my possessions in tow, and among them was that sword. I didn't find it until after Elsa came back, but then I knew that if she was alive, you had to be too.

"I held onto that blade, at least." I continued. "After they took the harmonica from me, it felt like that was the only piece of you that I had left. And it wasn't a sort of… sentimental sense. It was more like knowing that you'd be truly dead once someone took the sword from me."

"…fair enough."

The door swung open behind us. I turned to see Torren standing before us.

"Pardon me, Your Highness. Mentor."

"It's alright, Torren." I said. "You have news?"

* * *

The streets were packed that morning, people selling whatever they could with the town as locked up tight as it was. It felt more like we were under siege, and the one who gave the order for it was our own fucking King. Torren and I could barely find room to move our arms, wading through the crowd like quicksand threatning to swallow us up. From the market stalls set up in the streets below, I could barely make out the massive brick wall that was still in the process of being put up. If one were to try to cross the border into Corona, they'd have to go through a massive fortress built right into the wall, or try to swim around it, and through the massive armada of ships in Sapphire Bay.

"Kevan and Keif have brought back intel?"

"Yeah." He replied. "I was also able to make my way into the compound undetected."

"Very good." I said, stepping out of the way for a man wheeling a cart past us. "Tell me about Harding."

"Lord Henry Harding is only allowing this occupation because of how little bloodshed he wants. If he knew Helga was alive-"

"We both know that can't happen." I shot back. "These people are under the oppression of outside forces. They don't need to turn to Helga to fight for themselves. What hope they have lost, what strength they need, it'll all come from within. They just need the push that we'll give them. They need to know that this kingdom belongs to them."

"Right." He muttered. "In any case, he's been hard pressed into allowing this occupation. His troops consist entirely of a household staff. Only thirty guards, and a brig docked at his private marina."

"I could get past all of them, no problem."

"Right, except you'll be face to face with Hans' troops, too." He explained. He pulled out a scrap of paper. "That's a copy of a letter I was able to get during my recon. It details how many guards will be coming along with Sir Damien, his tax collector. At least fifty guards will be patrolling the grounds alone. That's not even counting that they'll be doubling the number of troops in this town as long as Sir Damien stays here. Three man 'o wars are on their way up here as they speak from Karnard."

"All for his tax collector? And I thought Prince John was a right old prick."

Torren smiled a bit. "So, how will we be handling this…" He glimpsed uneasily as four guards passed by us, then looked down. They paid no notice to us, though. Ironically, it was due to the fact that we were no longer wearing our traditional garb. "Mentor?"

"Well, I'll need a map of the whole place. Where did you get this?" I held up the scrap.

"I found it in one of the guard houses close to the edge of the fort." He explained.

"Can you find me a map or blueprints of the compound?"

"I can try."

I smirked. He would _try_. "When this is all over, I'm gonna show you _Empire Strikes Back_."

"What?"

"We're gonna need to look into a distraction." I said, ignoring him.

"Why?"

"The lockdown is too tight, Torren." I explained. "Tighter than a bongo, and yet they're gonna press even tighter onto us for the tax collector. This man is worth a lot to Hans, and so far, his reign has gone by without much resistance."

"We're not killing anyone in the compound, are we?" Torren said, understanding.

"No. We can't afford to knock anyone out, either. I need to get in, take care of the job, and get out, all without being noticed."

I almost said, "kill Damien", but then I remembered we were on a busy street, right in broad daylight.

"Maybe you should borrow the Clover from Helga, just in case."

I glanced over at the boy. He had only just received his hood from me, going from Novice to Assassin by my call. Yet, I was impressed at how he was already proving to me that he had earned that hood. It was as though that hood was all that he needed to get the confidence in himself. I was impressed.

"That's a good idea. But get me a copy of the guard patrols so I can use it accordingly."

"Roger that. As for a distraction?"

"We won't be executing the mission until Monday." I said. "Till then, we'll think of something at the meeting tonight."

"Fair enough." Torren said. "I'll talk to you later, Mentor."

With that, he walked off, leaving me to check in on the rest of the operation.

Rory and Red were running our market stall this morning. It was sad because of what we had to sell. Most of it was stuff we were trying to grow ourselves, apothecary ingredients and such. That was another reason I felt we needed to recruit Terej to the front: he'd know how to triple our product yield before long.

We also had another export that we could have worked with if it wasn't winter: ice, made by Elsa. Ice was still in demand around the kingdom, though obviously not as good as it could have been. Still, people bought what we could provide, using it for medicinal purposes, and for their drinks.

"Mentor." Rory said as I came up.

"How's business?"

"Lousy." Red replied. "Today's not our day."

"It's what we can expect in the long run." I said. "How much Vytropi have we raised?"

"Overall, or today?"

"Overall."

"Overall, including today, about seven hundred."

I shook my head. Filip wanted at least six thousand to enter a deal with him. We all knew that his tavern's business wasn't worth that much for a single percent of his profits. That was our deal: all that money for _one percent_ of his profits, as was the tradition Ezio had placed on us. It was the _risk_ that made it the price that it was, however. This town's neck was one of many that the Southern Isles were wrapping their hands around, and I knew that if there was any chance for us to save these people, we would have to go completely unnoticed. Finance would have to happen in several different ways.

"Red, go talk to Filip. He might have heard if someone needs a favor or two done."

"The board's been empty for three days." She replied.

"In a town suffering this much, someone always needs help." I replied. "And they'll be more than willing to reward us tangibly for it."

She shrugged. "Alright."

"Rory, stay here." I continued. "Hold down the fort, but keep an eye out for anyone needing some sort of help."

"Aye, mate."

With the two of them set to work, I decided to check around. This town was one where troubles and difficulty were plentiful, and everyone was always in need of some help. Red and Terej would be handling small jobs as Novices, but I also needed to make my face and assistance known throughout the town.

It was thanks to Ezio I remembered what I had to do. There were a few spare books from old Assassin teachings at Cormac's back in Storybrooke, and Keaton let me take one written about Ezio. It was merely a copy of a copy written poorly by some fool who only knew him by reputation. Yet, he seemed to know some of Ezio's odd deeds done here and there to help the less fortunate of _Roma_.

Today it was a woman, sitting on the side of the street, crying into the hem of her skirt. Dirt and mud lay around her, yet the citizens around the street ignored her.

" _Frøken._ Pardon me, miss."

She looked up at me, shaking coldly as I sat down in the muck beside her.

"You… you speak the Old Tongue?"

It was Norwegian in the Land Without Magic. I had learned it long ago from my father.

"Yes."

"But it is illegal, now." She gasped.

"Let me worry about what the guards will do to me. Don't worry about it yourself. What is the matter?"

She pointed to a torn sack beside her, dirty potatoes spilt out beside her.

"The guards demanded tribute from whatever was in the sack I carried." She sobbed. "When I tried to explain that it was for my starving children, they cut it open and took half!"

I scowled as the woman began to hiccup with hysterics.

"I cannot take this much longer! My children live in constant fear that the guards will take them away as they did the family next door!"

"They shouldn't." I replied, standing and gathering up the potatoes. The sack had a large hole in it, too big for me to even try to salvage it. So I abandoned it, instead, gathering all the potatoes in my arms.

"I don't fear them, _Frøken_." I said. "And you must not, either. They are lower than rats to attack people who have already submitted to His Majesty. They attack an unarmed woman and call themselves soldiers of Arendelle. _Drittsekker_."

She wasn't moving. I had to keep talking.

"Where do you live, _Frøken_?" I asked, politely. "I will help you take what's left to your home."

She miserably stood. "I live a block away." She sobbed. "But why waste your breath on me?"

"It's not a waste." I replied. "All of Arendelle's citizens are worth it. Lead the way. I'll help you carry these."

She sniffled, then wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Thank you, sir." She replied, her frown lightening a little. "What is your name?"

"Connor. Connor Cormac." I replied.

Her eyes widened. "You?! Oh, sir! If I had known-"

"It would change nothing." I smiled. "If you had known right off the bat who I am, I would have still stopped to help. I am here to help in any way I can."

"I beg your pardon, Mister Cormac." She said. "It's only that you and the few others that we see of you around; You're stopping to help where so many others only look the other way."

I smiled as I heard it. What the others thought was a pointless crusade to help others with no gold to show for it, I knew would pay off in the long run. It was what I remembered Ezio doing. He helped all those around _Isola Tiberina_ and made his face known to them, and they, in turn, protected him from the Borgia when he needed it. Admittedly, we needed gold. But we also needed friends.

"They refuse to help because they're afraid of what will happen to them if they help." I said. "Fear is what makes us do terrible things to each other. And you need not be afraid."

The words came out of me. Came out of me like one of the greats before me. I was only saying what I thought Ezio or Altaïr would say to another broken soul. But I was also starting to believe it. And I had to lead by some example.

"May I ask your name, _Frøken_?

"Maiken, sir." She replied. "I help Doctor Gunnarsen, my brother, around the corner from here."

"And only struggling to get by like so many others in this town." I said, holding up the loose potatoes for emphasis. There was still dirt on them, but they could be cleaned.

Three guards walked past, eyeing me with silent anger as we passed by. I was helping another with her troubles. Apparently, that was a minor offence, now.

"Everyone is choking for air, Mister Cormac." She said. "This town was prosperous with all the trade that went through here from Corona, up to the castle town. Now with the blockade set up-"

"All the trade's been funnelled up to Arendelle's castle town. I know." I said. "But we can manage if we stick together."

Maiken eyed me with wonder. "I've heard much about you on the streets, recently. Though I've never seen you before, having lived here all my life. Who are you, _Herr_?" She had the faintest of Old Arendelle accents.

I chuckled. "Only a citizen of Arendelle like yourself. Facing outsiders taking our land, I only hope that I can do my part for us to stick together. I came south to avoid the blunt of His Majesty's forces. Looks like I missed my carriage south a while ago."

We turned suddenly, coming up to a door. "Queen Elsa would be rolling in her grave if she saw this kingdom for what it had become." She said, sniffling.

"Aye." I said. "She is."

Maiken didn't hear me, focused on unlocking her door and letting myself and her inside.

"Just over on the counter, Mr. Cormac."

"Please." I said. "Connor."

She nodded, grateful she had found a friend. "Connor. _Selvfølgelig_."

She gestured to the kitchen, where I walked over, and put the potatoes down. The whole place was barren of any food, which made me only angrier at how much Maiken needed it for her children. She shortly came into the kitchen with a little girl and boy.

"Children, this is Connor Cormac." She said, pushing them forwards. "He was kind enough to help carry our food home for the night, and he'll be joining us."

I smiled but shook my head as I got down on my knee to get on the same eye level with the kids. "I'm truly touched, Maiken." I said. "But I can't stay for dinner. My friends and I have some things to attend to tonight."

"And I must _insist_ …" She said, putting her hands on her hips, giving a motherly smile. "That they will wait for you."

She was a mother by nature, barely any trace of the scared woman left in her then and there.

I chuckled lightly, glancing to her children. "Your mother knows how to get what she wants, I see."

Her children looked over at me with interest as we sat down at the table. "Mommy says you're a great man around here."

I chuckled. "I would never call myself that." I said. "I only help where people need help. And right now, the 'where' is this whole town."

"Indeed." Maiken sighed. "Business has at least been good for my brother, but that's because so many people are being sent to him, beaten to a pulp."

"And he isn't sharing any of his earnings with you?"

"He can't with the surprise taxes from Hans. He's turning them into Lord Harding tomorrow night."

I nodded. Yet another reason to put forth the deed.

While dinner was meagre with how much Maiken was able to put together, it was still delicious. I listened intently to her stories, about her long dead husband and how her brother helped her raise the children afterwards.

"How much was that sack of potatoes?" I asked after dinner, getting ready to leave.

"Two Vytropi." She replied. "It used to be twelve Tryrins, but the blockade's hurt our imports so."

I nodded, taking out my coin purse as I stood back up. I placed four gold Vytropi on the table.

"You and your children have to eat." I said. "Take this. If the guards cause you any more trouble, come find me, or one of my friends at the Twelve Spades the next time you go shopping."

She looked as though I just gave her a whole fortune. She jumped forwards and threw her arms around me.

"Thank you, _Herr_ Cormac!" She cried.

Her children did the same as I laughed, then pulled away.

"This town has been fractured by Hans." I said. "Us as Arendellians must stand together, or not stand at all."

With a polite bow, I headed back out into the wintery air, feeling a bit of a gentle jump in my step. Whatever feelings filled my once frozen and black heart, I now knew was what filled Ezio's own heart as he helped the others of _Roma_.

* * *

Matthew was inside the war room, looking down at the map. Molrum was the second largest town in Arendelle, behind only the castle city. Right now, it was a map of the town, and the surrounding areas between here and the first town in Corona. The wall Hans' men had put up meant a good five hundred yards of bare land, nowhere to hide from the searchlights. There used to be trees and shrubs to hide behind, but all reports gave the same news: cut down to prevent Sprinters from hiding.

"Mentor." He said, looking up from the maps.

"How goes our other problem?"

"Ugh. Mediocre at best." He said. "The blockade is what's caused this to be so hard. It'll only be even more difficult once Sir Damien arrives."

When Terej came to us with the intel about Sir Damien coming, I knew we had to book immediate passage out of the city to Corona. But so far, all public reports had said that only a few spare individuals had been permitted to leave Molrum, but none of them had gone to Corona. Only the whole of them had gone north.

"I have a friend, Sam." Matthew mused. "Smuggles cargo and people for a living. He would have been perfect to take us across the border into Corona. But he'll be leaving tonight to head back north. It's even more difficult for him because he can't legally show his face on the street."

"We can't leave until after Damien is dead. And we can't wait for him to come back when the deed is done. He won't do." I replied.

"What a shame." Matthew tsked. "He gave me a reasonable price of three favours."

"…maybe we find our own way across?"

He looked up. "How?"

"We can't afford to pay any other smugglers to get us into Corona. No one could, even if they somehow had the coin. They'd be paying thousands of Vytropi to take them across, and there's still no guarantees that they would make it across the field on the other side of the wall. So, we'll have to do it ourselves. Somehow."

Matthew legitimately laughed at that idea. "You'd be insane to even try. This is a town of fewer than five hundred people present, and it's still just as wound tight as any other city here. Hans wants everything to run according to his system."

"This town still outnumbers the guards, three to one." I replied. "We'll charge the gate if we have to."

"May I speak freely, Mentor?"

The nature of our conversations had changed. When he was Mentor, Matthew looked down on me like a frustrated parent looked down on their bratty child. But now, he held a kindlier presence, which was unlike any I had seen from him before. I would almost find it hard to believe, but I think he was actually proud of how quickly I took charge.

I smirked at Matthew. "I welcome it."

"We spend a month of planning and waiting, and you think we can just 'charge the gate'?"

"Maybe. Or maybe something will turn up before Sir Damien gets here."

My former Mentor shrugged. "Fair enough. Cross the bridge when we get to it?"

"Yeah. But remember that we still need to cross it, and have our plan once it's within eyesight. Right now, it's leagues away."

Matthew grinned. "There's your father's teachings coming to mind."

"I know. Alarming, isn't it?"

"Not at all." He grinned. "I've missed him."

"What about the underground?" I asked. "Any contacts of yours outside Molrum reach out?"

"Eh… two. Corona has an active Thieves' Guild working, but their Guildmaster Corbin has only been in his position for six months after their last one Peggy was killed on the job. He recognized my name from some of his predecessor's letters. He's friends with Queen Rapunzel through her husband Eugene. He's willing to meet with us if we can get to him.

"Then there's Captain Brovold. He was one of Elsa's Rear Admirals. He managed to escape to Corona and pleaded immunity from His Majesty. Hans can't arrest him while he stays outside Arendelle and the Southern Isles. Now he's working a black-market shipping route between Corona and Misthaven. I didn't mention that his Queen is alive by your discretion. If we meet with him, he can at least get us where we need to go next."

"Thanks, Matthew. So, we need to get to Corona after all of this, it sounds. Meet with both Brovold and Varin when we get there."

"Aye." Matthew said. "Preparations as best we can before the tax collector gets here."

"One more thing: how much are you estimating him to walk away with?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow and then opened a book close to the table. It appeared to be a ledger.

"I've been tracking our accounts since we returned. And with what knowledge I had about the Arendelle Treasury, I was able to chalk up some calculations as you requested. With as much as I was able to estimate in Molrum's income, I'd say Sir Damien should be returning to Hans with no less than a hundred and fifty thousand Vytropi."

I grinned.

"What are you thinking, Asgeir?"

"Only what concerns the one who will be shoving a blade into Sir Damien's neck."

* * *

The last month had seen nightly meetings at the war room after the tavern had closed for the night. Every night, the Twelve Spades held its last call at midnight, and every night after that, we came to our meetings.

I sat at the head, Zar to my left, and Rory to my right. Everyone else was free to pick their seats accordingly. Now Terej sat in his burly glory, a tight-fitting Novice Assassin hood now present over him.

Red sat there too, also a Novice. After much discussions with me, and her considerations into what sort of life she would be leading, she had made her decision to take the hood. Or rather, treat her infamous hood as her own Assassin hood.

"Let's go through our day's events, Assassins. Red, Rory?"

"Made a decent sale today after yah left." He said. "Add another fifty Vytropi to the total." He gave a sly grin to the whole lot of us. "Though, it ain't a contest."

Red held up a pouch, grinning. "One hundred more Vytropi, O'Dre." She placed it on the table. "Filip had a few people who needed letters delivered past the checkpoints into the other district."

Anna looked uneasily at Red. "You could have been killed going through!"

"But I didn't." She replied, smirking. "Guards made me a bit of trouble going in, but going back out was no problem since they recognized me. Easy enough to promise them a small cut of what I made." She grinned at Rory. "It ain't a contest, though."

I shrugged. "Whatever helps. The clients gave you that much for the letters?"

"Yep." She said, smiling. "A little less since I had to give the guards that small cut, but they think I only got pocket change for the job. I handed them a few coppers."

The Irishman squirmed in his seat. Maybe he just didn't like getting shown up by a newcomer. I respected that. Friendly competition might breed better effort between us.

"We work hard for the next few days, guys, and I promise you our funds will have us set for the start to our fight." I said. "Meanwhile, Sir Damien will be here in two more days, and when he does, we'll be ready to move."

"Move?" Anna asked. "We're going?"

"It won't be safe to stay here once I kill him." I said. "His death is meant to send a message to Hans, so once he gets word of that, we need to be long gone. Lucky for us, Matthew has been able to get in touch with some of his contacts in Corona."

"From there, we'll be able to determine our next course of action." He said. "Sam would have been perfect to take us south, but he left tonight. He won't be back in Molrum for a few weeks."

"Aye." I said. "Now onto other business. Our missing persons. Any news of Troy, Rabbit, Sven or Olaf?"

Matthew shook his head. "The best I can estimate is the prison camps in Sript. That's where Brovold said most of the Undesirables were taken by Hans."

"Fair enough. If they're anywhere, that'll be the best place to start. We'll look more into that when we get to Corona."

Zar nodded. "Other than that, there's no other news to be brought forth. We're still scoping out Lord Harding's manor to plan the infiltration."

"It'll get done, but it has to be of the utmost delicacy." I said. "Meanwhile, we need to start planning our escape out of Molrum. We can't stay here much longer after I kill Sir Damien, because once the guards get wind of his death, they'll send for Hans, or one of his brothers."

It was nothing I hadn't said to my Assassins for the last few days. What I hadn't told them was the personal reason why I wasn't going to kill anyone except Damien.

Of course, discretion had to be present. But I had also spilt blood before. Too much of it. Innocent blood to go with all the corrupt blood that I had spilt. And there was no way to excuse it. If I were to atone for my sins, I had to bring about a more measured hand than any Assassin before me. Altair, Ezio, even Connor. They all killed guards who worked for the Templars. Guards who maybe deserved it. But there were plenty of those people among them who were only doing their job. Some of them probably didn't even know about the Templars, or their sins. To truly atone, I would have to stay my blade from more than just the flesh of the innocents. To wash out the blood from my blade and my hands, I would have to let it dry over time on an unused blade.

* * *

Monday night came.

I found myself at the war table, alone. This might happen a dozen times over in the war to come. Every prince would have to die, and all of them by my hand. But just as regular as the deed, was the meditation that every Assassin made on it before it. They were about to take a life, and that meant a great deal to anyone.

So many of my weapons laid scattered on the table. My scythe, Shay's air rifle, my flintlocks, everything. The only thing I now carried was the only thing I would really need: my Rope Blades. By accordance with the old tradition of Assassins, I would go in armed only with those.

In the corner, set up in it's position as it had been hidden back at Cormac's, I saw the Armor of the White Reaper. In a letter my father had left behind for me, he explained that it was what gave me and my ancestors the name that so many people of the Land of Magic feared. To the Assassin who wore it, it provided them with total protection from death. It was what I used in my final battle against Ingrid a month ago.

But there was something my father had not told me about the armor. Something that I had realized only after I delivered the killing blow to Ingrid, and which now made me certain I could not wear it unless it was absolutely necessary. Only absolute death could pay for absolute life, in the bargain that the smith who forged the armor made with Hades. If I didn't take enough lives to satisfy him, the armor would consume my own soul, and kill me in return.

It was this realization, the promise I had made with myself, and the knowledge that any noise of unrest with the monarchy would send Hans south to our location made me decide to only go in armed with my hidden blades, and to kill only one target, sparing everyone else.

I had lost the right… was it a right? No, I had lost the _justification_ to take lives beyond those that I had sworn to kill. I could have tried to kill only Regina so long ago, but instead I spared her after killing hundreds of her guards. I could have only tried to kill Maloy, but I took the lives of his wife and girls to go with him. And Ingrid… Sydney Glass betrayed the entire town for his freedom by helping her, and I tortured him before putting him out of his misery. He begged me to stop after I cut his first finger off. After the drill, he started begging me to stop _his life_. He had to wait an agonizing fifteen minutes before I granted his request.

The deeds I had performed would have to be atoned like no other soul before me. And even after what would happen in the war to come, I still could not be sure that I would be able to wash out the blood from my soul.

Two blades. One target. Hundreds of lives to be spared, and all to send a message to the King. This was going to be the greatest odds I had ever faced before.

Yet, I held one thing in my hands. The Cormac Templar Ring. It looked like any other Templar ring, with the red cross and the grooves around the band. But it belonged to Shay, and to Asgeir the First, passed down through the line of Cormac Assassins. After I found it, given to me by Matthew, I chained it to the finger guard on the air rifle. My own sort of way of honoring the only Templar I ever found myself agreeing with a few times.

Assassin and Templar propaganda both declared that Shay was a ruthless traitor that hunted down all the Colonial Assassins and drove Achilles Davenport underground. His ghost used to haunt me. I reckon it was a hallucination of the curse of Shattered Sight. But no longer. Some part of me almost missed him, and his taunting. The same part of me that felt disconnected and disoriented after being freed of everything.

About to go into a compound, kill a tax collector, and likely steal a good part of the funds he was taking…

"Hey, Father." I muttered down at the ring. "I know I'm not much of a praying person. I just don't know what I'm doing, now. More than half of the life that I've lived, I spent tracking down one target, and now I have to kill every single Templar that's infected our home with their toxic way of life."

There was no response from the ring. I didn't expect there to be. It was only a piece of silver, after all.

"I now know why Hans and the Templars are here. Maybe there's some sort of… plan that they have. A real plan for this place. But they wouldn't have invaded if we didn't give them the invitation. It was me who brought them here. They saw the Assassins walk right into Arendelle like we owned the place, and it was a slap in the face to provoke them to war with us." I paused. "Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe the Southern Isles only invaded us because they wanted to hurt Anna and Elsa for what they did to Hans. I may never know. What I do know is what I have to do. What I have always had to do."

I looked down at my Rope Blades, and extended them.

"One more time." I said, speaking to the blades like an old friend.

* * *

The air was clear that night, no trace of any snowflakes or stormclouds in all directions. I could not afford to be spotted on my way over, but some traditions had to be followed as I wore my old Arendelle hood. Off the top of my head, I couldn't remember if there ever a job as delicate as this in Arendelle's history of Assassins. One where I couldn't kill, knock out, or even be seen by anyone except Sir Damien.

Truthfully, I thought that maybe there could be a chance to go through this and kill some guards. But I wanted to try something new. The most measured approach I could think of: only kill those who absolutely needed to die.

Molrum was a small town, but tonight I saw no less than five guards on the street at a time. All Preparing for the arrival of Sir Damien, who's ship I could spot from the roof.

Knowing I would be spotted if I stayed put for too long, I ran across the roofs towards the marina, before jumping down to a balcony close to the top. A large garden brush lay below, and I took my position within.

Sure enough, the toll of the bells signalled the arrival of a massive escort leaving the ship. A handful of Lord Harding's household guard stood before the dock as at least thirty guards walked down off the ship, and onto solid ground.

A pompous looking man with a thin moustache and slicked-back brown hair sniffed as he came down from the ship. He was dressed much like how Hans was the day of Elsa's coronation, even down to the epaulettes. A captain of Lord Harding's guards stepped up.

"Sir Damien." He said. "A pleasure." He gave a quick bow, then held his hand out to shake.

Damien took it, looking around. "This is Molrum?" He said.

"Yessir." The captain said. "Lord Harding is waiting for you with the money."

Damien didn't appear to be listening, still looking about the town.

"Yes… well…" He said, unimpressed with the town. "Let's see what he has gathered for His Majesty."

People never look up. The captain present and Sir Damien never noticed me. But the same could only barely be said for the guards stationed on the rooftops.

There were at least four guards to a rooftop, and several times I had to jump down to the nearly empty streets, ducking into abandoned stores and hiding behind carts to keep up with the squad of guards and their escorts.

It was easy to discern the household guards with the Southern Isle troops, even with the clear differences in uniform. They were split right down the middle, with the small handful of Molrum guards clustered with their captain, and the battalion of troops with Sir Damien.

I was expecting Damien to be much more vocal with his distaste of Molrum. It came a bit of a surprise to see that he was not as much of a snob. But the reason that he was here changed nothing. He was still of Hans' inner circle, and his death would send a message.

Terej had told me what he had seen of Sir Damien. He was at the meeting where he was dismissed as the Royal Gardener, where only Hans' closest generals and admirals were present. From what knowledge we were able to gather in Molrum, Hans rarely came out of the palace. If he appeared to the public, it was at court within the walls of the palace, guarded by at least twenty guards in the entire room. Only those who were privileged to deal with Hans directly were his closest friends. And yes, even snakes had friends.

The property that held Lord Harding's manor was on a hill overlooking the entire town. Using what little cover I could get out of the emptied streets, and all the guards, I followed the group to the estate, where they went through the gates before they were locked behind them. Luckily, I knew where to go next from here.

One hidden part of the fences that surrounded the estate had two iron pickets pried off. Torren had noticed this during one of his scouting missions and had made sure to tell me. Sure enough, it hadn't been noticed by the guards, and it made it a lot easier for me to climb over the fence, and into the lot.

Immediately, I saw a group of five guards walking in my direction. The space between the closest building and the wall of the property was very narrow, so there was a chance that they didn't notice me. But I still lurched right into the closest patch of tall grass as soon as I landed.

"Hey!"

One of the guards looked up in surprise. "What is it?"

"I thought I saw something." The first one said, walking over in my direction.

I noticed a storage shed for tools up against the building. It was clearly sleeping quarters or something of the sort for guards. I was glad I had hidden here, and not in the shed, giving me nowhere to move if I had been seen.

The guard began to walk slowly forwards. He may have seen me jump from the wall, so I had to move slowly, and no sudden movements. Everything had to be executed with a precision that I was sure no Assassin had ever accomplished before me.

The guard walked over, eyes narrowed in curiosity. What had happened just then? What had he seen? He raised his rifle, and stirred the brush a bit.

If it had been a bird, the brush would have shaken more as it flew off. So the guard looked one more time as I remained as still as a rock, taking as much care as I could not move another inch.

"What is it?" His friend repeated.

The guard kept looking, but then turned around. "Dunno." He replied. "Might have been a rat, but it's gone now."

I let out a silent breath of relief as I sat back down in the brush. The guards walked away, after which I unfolded the map that had been made for me, and began to look about my options.

Opportunities were almost always about for an Assassin. And the key was in finding every one, and using the best one to exploit the situation.

Luckily, there was one advantage that I held here, regardless of how many guards swarmed this manor like wasps. The entire village had been on lockdown for months. There had been a few instances of unrest among the populace, but overall, nothing had been so drastic and so threatening to his regime that Hans had felt the need to do anything to provoke them. Therefore, no one had any idea of what was about to happen. Nor who would truly be to blame for it.

The guard quarters I stood in the brush beside was directly across the lot from the manor. I would have to move faster than ever if I were to manage to catch Sir Damien without being spotted. I couldn't afford to take the ground route to the manor, because there would be too many guards between me and the building, and a whole winding route through to the room where they would count the money. Top this off with the fact that Lord Harding and Damien were out of range from my Sight, and I needed to get to the manor as quick as possible.

I looked up at the edge of the roof of the guard quarters. It looks to be strong enough to hold my weight, but I hadn't tried using my Rope Blade like that in ages.

With nothing to lose, I turned the symbol on my blade, then raised my wrist, and tensed it.

The blade's mechanism triggered, but instead of the blade simply extending like a traditional Hidden Blade, it shot completely out of the mechanism, trailed by a steel rope wound up inside. Once the blade hit the edge of the roof, I tensed again, this time the rope winding back up again, lifting me up into the air.

I had forgotten how the rush had felt, using that blade. Keif had designed it special from plans I had found from a Templar engineer so many years ago. He and I agreed that the next order of business with him would be to gather up the resources to make the blades standard for the Arendelle Assassins.

I could clearly see the manor from here. But the distance was too far for me to launch the blade again, and try to zipline over there from here. So I had to start running. Running with at least three guards on the surrounding roofs.

I looked around, but not one of them had noticed me yet. I didn't think about it. I didn't wait. I just ran, and jumped for it, flying off into the air.

It was about at the peak of my jump that I realized what a bad idea this was. Because I had jumped thinking there was another building within reach, and there wasn't one for me to land on. I began to fall, looking down to see the ground rush up to meet me. My gut clenched, and I shot my wrist out again, the rope shooting out and embedding into the wall of the manor. Before I knew it, I had clenched my wrist again, and found myself pinned up against the wall, my feet flat on it with my wrist buried into the wooden grains.

"Shit…" I groaned. "You fool, Asgeir! Don't ever do that again!"

I was scolding myself, but I would later realize that either choice would have been the right one. Had I not jumped so quickly and recklessly, I likely would have been spotted right on the rooftop, with guards around me in ever direction, making me an easy target. But now I was on the edge of the manor, ready to start looking for Damien.

I took a breath, and focused. Listening and looking for anything through the walls around me.

I could see Lord Harding and Sir Damien through the walls. They were on their way to the other side of the manor on the top floor, the same floor that I was outside of. With luck, there would be a window for me to climb into.

I had climbed horizontally before. I was just a lot more work, and a lot slower to do. But I had no time to waste. I hurried and began to make my way over in the same direction they were, while I listened in on their conversation.

"And how is our King Hans?" Lord Harding asked.

"He is very busy with affairs back North." Damien said, curtly. "Strange you claim to care so deeply for our King, yet you waited until now to ask me."

"I didn't wish to impose anything, Sir Damien." Harding replied, thought with a bit of anger hinted in his voice. Well earned, as Damien was not giving him an easy time with the courtesies. "I must admit, I was expecting him to come down here, since he was the one who dropped the taxes on my citizens with such speed."

"But then you must understand the circumstances, too." Damien said. "His Majesty knows more about the cost of this occupation than anyone else. Molrum and the other coastal towns like it need blockades to ensure the security of Arendelle's citizens. They need troops, and they need rations to feed those troops. All of which I mentioned cost money. So where is it to come from?"

I scowled. This was not real protection, it was submission. And even if it was what he claimed it to be, no one in Arendelle asked for such a degree of it that they had to pay for it themselves. I kept climbing along the building, listening in as their conversation brought them to a hallway along the edge of the building, right on the other side of the wall that I was clinging to.

"Indeed." Harding replied. "Valid points, Sir Damien. My study will suffice for you to count the money, I presume?" He said, turning the corner down the next hall, to a room with a window. Perfect.

"It will." He replied. "Where have you left it?"

"My clerk is bringing the money here as we spe- ah! Here he is!"

A small man with a large chest in his arms walked down from the other end of the hall, coming up to Damien and Harding.

"Hand it over." Damien ordered. Then he turned to the guard escort that had been following them. "I will be out in ten minutes, no more, no less. Something has happened if I leave earlier or later than that. Understood?"  
"Yessir." One of the guards replied, taking out a pocket watch, and eyeballing it. He was checking for what time it was right then and there. Quickly, I took my own watch out, and began to count.

With that, Damien opened the door to the study. He locked the door behind him, carrying the chest over to the desk. I fully expected him to open it and start counting, but instead, he sat there, and did nothing.

I was deeply confused, but wasted no time. I had a job to do. I climbed as quick as I could to the window, and began to slowly open it.

Damien remained sitting there, doing nothing. Why he wasn't doing the one thing that he was sent here to do made no sense to me. Especially since he said that he was only going to take ten minutes to do so. What did it all mean?

I had my plan. He wasn't expecting me. He had his back to the window, waiting for something.

I didn't even give him the chance to turn around. I partly expected him to anticipate me jumping him, so I wouldn't give him the chance to react. I saw him perk up when I opened the window, but shot my Rope Blade right to the back of his neck.

He choked in shock, which I then followed by climbing rapidly into the window, yanking him backwards from the desk towards me, and then lowering my other blade down into the front of his neck.

* * *

Sir Damien clutched his throat, gasping and straining to get a last breath through to his lungs.

"What have you done?!" He cried. "Who are you?!"

I grabbed him by the shirt collar. "I'm only a blade wielded by the people of Arendelle." I whispered. "I'm the White Reaper."

"No!" He gasped. "Assassin! I have done nothing!"

"You pried hard earned gold from the citizens of a kingdom who never asked for your presence. This entire town is choked by a blockade around it from all sides, yet you call it protection."

"It _is_!" He cried. "Elsa never put down order on her citizens! They were always free to do what they wanted, and it left her country in anarchy! We are simply picking up the pieces left behind by her death." He spat up at me. "My death gives you nothing to gain, Assassin!" He snarled. "When His Majesty finds out I have died, he'll put this shithole town to the torch!"

I raised my fist, and stabbed his neck three more times. "Wanna bet?"

But Damien didn't respond. He couldn't. He had already died from those quick stabs.

I bowed my head with regret, realizing what I had just done. It was a mistake to stab him again. He was beaten, and I still lashed out in anger. He was the only one I had killed here, but it was clear to me that I still had a lot more work to teach myself as well as my Assassins.

I pulled his glove off. I didn't expect to find a ring there, but it came as a welcome surprise to find the unmistakable silver ring with grooves and the red cross. He _was_ a Templar. That at least relieved me of some of the guilt that had begun to plague me at that moment. Another chain of rings for me to start.

And for good measure, I did what Matthew suggested I did: pin the crime on another. It took a lot of his time, but he was able to forge a letter that would give the exact culprit Hans would love to blame when he heard about this. I simply needed to plant it on Damien.

I place it into his coat pocket, and then I pulled my feather out of my pouch and gently wiped it over his neck. It was time to start another tradition again. " _Kaller det skatt, tolererer ikke tyveri. Hvil I Fred._ "

* * *

I searched Sir Damien's pockets, hoping I could get more information. Sure enough, there was a letter with Hans' personal seal stamped to it. Broken, so it meant that he had read it.

 _Sir Damien,_

 _Three months of our reign has seen a complete submission from much of Arendelle, and acceptance to my rule. But there are still those who show resistance, so we must hurt them where it counts. They will be so much easier to control if we convince them that their lords accept us._

 _Molrum is to be the first to receive surprise taxes by my command. But it must be framed so that it is under Lord Harding's orders. They will hate him for it, and he will not be able to resist with the petty force at his own command. However much he is able to scrape together for the Southern Isles is not important, so don't bother counting what he gives you. This is only to send a message to him and his citizens of who is in control, and who protects them night and day._

 _May the Father of Understanding Guide You._

 _King Hans, First of My Name. King of the Norse, Lord of the North, and Protector of the Realm_

And then it all made sense to me. The people of Molrum had scraped together what little gold they could muster for the sudden change in power, and Hans knew it would never be enough to meet the demand that he would have for them. But he didn't care how much money they managed to produce. Only so long as it would be enough to tell the people what he needed them to hear: he was their king, and resistance of any kind would be met by his boot pressing down more on the people.

I checked my watch. Five minutes left to count the gold. Hurriedly, I checked the chest on the desk. Filled to the brim with paper rolls of gold coins, I counted at least a good hundred and sixty thousand gold Vytropi from what I could see out of the rolls. That was only what a quick glance offered me, meaning there had to be much more than that. But what could I do?

I didn't even think. I only began to look around the office, gathering up what small items could fit into the chest, giving some weight to it. Following that, I quickly piled roll after roll of coins into my satchel. It was tedious, and I knew it would be heavy to carry myself. But the gold did not belong in the hands of Hans or the Templars. As well, now I knew that the only reason he had taken it from the hands of the citizens of Molrum was to show them who was in charge.

The chest was now weighted down with whatever I could find in the office, and Sir Damien's body was now propped up in the corner in a chair. After I knew that everything was ready, I pulled out the Six Leafed Clover, slipped it around my neck, and tapped it.

I felt my form shift into that of Sir Damien's. When the time ran out, I opened the door and looked out into the hall.

"Lord Harding." I ordered. "Come back in here and close the door behind you. We have to discuss the amount you brought us."

Groaning, the old lord went inside as I looked to Damien's guard.

"Two minutes." I said. "Two minutes and then we can leave."

"Yessir." The guard replied.

Lord Harding turned his back to me, closing the door behind him and leaving everything open for me to confront him.

I extended my blade and pressed it against the back of Lord Harding's head. Most of my clothes had changed with the magic of the clover, but my blade was still there, underneath my sleeve.

"Don't turn around." I ordered, quietly. "Look to your left."

Harding did as he was told, suddenly quivering with surprise as the breath escaped his mouth, noticing Damien's dead body in the corner.

"What did you do to him? Who… what _are_ you?"

"Arendelle's last hope." I replied. "You can't take a stand against Hans. You don't have the men."

"You don't either." Harding replied. "No one does. Over two hundred thousand men make up the Southern Isles' armies. And that's only the smallest estimates"

"But numbers are nothing." I replied. "Not if you have the conviction. Not if you have an idea."

"There is no point to it." Harding said. "Queen Elsa is dead. Who can rule Arendelle?"

"She lives, Milord. She and her sister. They are alive in this town, and for obvious reasons, you will not be able to see them."

Harding's breath escaped his chest again, but this time with a hint of relief.

"Thank the gods." He said. "What do I do?"

"Wait for my signal." I said, slipping a parchment to his hand. Drawn with the Assassin insignia.

"But you're just one loyalist?"

"Now we are two..." I said, retracting my blade.

"… we?"

I smirked, then pushed him aside, picking up the weighted chest and carrying it to the door.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" The guard said.

"It is now." I sneered. "Lord Harding forgot to add his share to the taxes."

The guard glared at the lord. "You think our King is some sort of idiot?" He snapped.

"Leave him." I ordered. "He's not worth the trouble." I hefted the box and began to walk down the hallway. "Escort Lord Harding to his chambers and ensure that neither him nor his men leave your sight until dawn."

This was all part of my plan. Ensuring that no one would be anywhere close to Sir Damien's body by the time he would inevitably be found would ensure that Lord Harding be not arrested for something a renegade had done.

Lord Harding only looked down in concern. "What do you plan on doing with my citizens' money?"

I realized that he was talking to me, not Sir Damien. Luckily, he knew to word it carefully so as not to blow my cover.

"The hard earned gold of Arendelle's people is now in my hands, Lord Harding. And I will see that it is put where it belongs."

One of the guards sniggered. "He means in King Hans' hands, you fool! Or wasn't that obvious enough?" He turned to me. "As you were, Sir. Lead the way."

I grinned, and did so. I thanked my lucky stars I remembered exactly the route that we took to get here.

The Clover was what helped me the most in this deed. No other Assassin had used such a tool before, and I now understood why it was called such a thing: it gave unmatched luck with this ability to hide in plain sight like no other. There was no suspicion whatsoever from the guards as we walked back to the ship, still anchored at port.

"I will be in my cabin until dawn." I ordered the guards. "And I do not wish to be disturbed. Understood?"

"Yessir." They said, no hesitation.

The body was something else that I would leave to its own to be found. Damien's men outnumbered Lord Harding's at least three to one on the property. Every man that belonged to him would be accounted for, so that would mean there would be no way for Hans to rightfully accuse Lord Harding of being the culprit. And Hans would absolutely take the bait that I had left on the body for him to find.

I waited half an hour in Damien's cabin. I kept the Clover on, even then, knowing one of his men might still disobey the order to not disturb him, and barge in. This assassination had gone miraculously by without a hitch, executed with precision that would make Ezio proud. Not a single guard knocked out or murdered, only the target. I did not intend for anything else to happen.

After I waited long enough, I gathered my things, along with the stolen money, left the chest with what gold I would leave alone, and opened the window to climb back down into the water.

The searchlights the blockade had set up in Sapphire Bay were much further out in the water. While it was freezing outside, still at the peak of winter, I knew that there was a blazing fire waiting for me back at the inn. I had to hurry.

The waves lapping against the ship began to pick up in intensity, and looking down, I noticed that it would then be the best time as any to jump.

It was worse than how I imagined it would feel. I was still shaking with intensity like no other by the time I climbed back into the window. I fell down onto the hard wooden floor, and felt myself sprawl out.

"Fun night?"

I looked up, gasping with frost on my skin. I felt as though I was still with the frozen heart as Matthew walked up, offering a hand to me.

" _Requiescat In Pace_ , Damien." I replied, taking it.

Matthew grinned. "One down, an army to go."

I nodded, looking back towards the portraits that lined the walls. Every one of them would have to die before Arendelle could see peace again. Every noble, every Prince of the Southern Isles, they would all die.

"Pack everything up." I ordered. "We leave tomorrow at dusk."

"Aye." Matthew replied. "By the time Hans realizes what we have done, we'll be in Corona."

I glared up at the bastard's portrait. His arse was warming the throne that never belonged to him. He'd likely staple it to the throne if he were so inclined. I'd pry it off with my blades in due time.

All in due time…

The dawn of a new day was rising on the town of Molrum. I had not left the War Room since I had returned. Soon, the rest of the Assassins would be waking up, ready to gather their things as we would attempt the escape into Corona. Now was as good a time as any.

Sitting back down at the desk, I took out the notebook. Ever blank as the day that I had gotten it, I placed it, and a quill and ink down on the desk.

I didn't know what to write exactly. But after a month of reflection, I began to understand that that was completely normal for an Assassin. I just did what I felt was natural, putting my words down on the parchment.

 _I, Asgeir Daniel Cormac, being of sound body and mind, hereby begin my accounts that led to the downfall of the Templars of Arendelle, and the actions that I took to ensure its freedom for eternity. No one but the Assassins will know the truth, for in much wisdom, will lie much grief._

Yes, that was a good start. And I knew what to say next. I began to lower the quill against the parchment again, when a spectacular noise rattled across the morning town.

Bells. Low bells that began to toll across the town. I knew for whom they tolled for. The one who had lost more than almost all of the gold he was sent to collect from this town.


	4. Chapter 4: Troy I

Chapter 3: Troy I

 _? 1789_

There was cotton in my arse. I bet someone from the Astrotia cut my cot open. Some part of me wanted to check, but I was already as warm as I could be that night. Which meant I was so cold, my balls had officially crawled right back up inside.

I heard a sneeze come from the bunk below me. It was Rabbit. He and I hadn't let each other get out of our own sight since we got here. And we had made some friends.

The sleeping quarters in Sript were unlike any prison we had ever seen before. A giant warehouse with the entire walls on every side opening like a hanger door at an airfield in the other world. Not four walls and a roof, but rather four massive doors and a roof. From those doors, you could clearly see the fifty-foot-tall wall of bunks, arranged like cubby holes in the central unit inside the building. Ten units tall, and at least fifty units wide. All connected from the ground with a number of ladders.

I slept right at the top, Rabbit below me, and the rest of our little gang of criminals.

Oaken also hadn't left us alone since we got here. He learned the rules of prison soon enough, but we could tell that he had stayed a family man, and not even this place could take that from him. The man was a bit of a simpleton, but Rabbit and I found him helpful enough. There was nothing he couldn't lift, so he saved our arses a bunch down in the salt mines.

The rest of our little group was basically all the other prisoners the Astrotia had marked for dead. Right on our first day, Rabbit made the mistake of grabbing the wrong pickaxe in the mines. Turns out it belonged to Diab, the leader of the Astrotia, a gang from the Southern Isles. We didn't understand a word that they spoke, because most of them spoke this world's equivalent of Spanish. Which was why they were here: they didn't have pricks the hue of daisies.

I looked up at the ceiling. Above, the whole thing creaked and cracked, the faint sound of the continuous blizzard outside providing the uneasy ambience.

I heard the small door creak below. I didn't need to look down. If the door to the outside was open in the middle of the night, it was either someone going outside to take a shit, or to leave and never come back.

Sript was a prison unlike any that Rabbit and I had ever been to. There were guards, and there were some areas that were caged up like most prisons. But this camp had no fence to keep us in. Nothing of any kind of sort that would keep us from leaving. In fact, we could leave if we wanted to, and try to make the journey back to Arendelle. But with a constant snowstorm always present here, and more than a hundred leagues from the ocean, would you take that chance?

Maybe Rabbit and I would. But now we had friends here. We had the only people left on this Earth that we could fight for with Anna, Elsa and Asgeir dead. We were the last Assassins left in this world, and what good would it be for us to leave this place and freeze to death, never to be seen again?

I closed my eyes, trying to let the whistling wind outside lull me to sleep. But I couldn't; I had cotton in my arse.

* * *

There was no airhorn to give the wakeup call. No wakeup call of any kind. The only thing the workers of Sript needed to do to wake us up was to open the doors. Every morning, a small building in the corner of the lot would have it's guard pull a winch, opening all four doors to the sleeping building. Then would come the usual blast of snow and ice in the air. You could get up and work. Or you could stay and freeze to death.

I didn't even wait for the doors to open completely, opting to jump down to the ladder, and down to the ground. As soon as I reached the ground, I put my hand into my trousers to pull whatever cotton was stuck in my arse.

"The hell are you doing?"

The bottom unit of our corner of the quarters was taken up by Nessa. Right now, she was sitting on her cot, looking up at me in confusion.

"Someone cut my cot open." I said. "Now I got cotton in my arse."

"So why didn't you pull it out last night instead of having me wake up to… that?"

"I was already as warm as I could be last night." I replied. "You know how it is. I couldn't move to pull that shit out."

Nessa looked up as Rabbit and Oaken climbed down, Nadine simply jumping right down from her bunk.

"Yeah." She replied. "I do. Still doesn't mean I want to see you pulling shit out your ass first thing in the morning."

Rabbit pulled up his hood on his jacket as the rest of us started gathering up our stuff for the day. It felt colder than normal.

I squinted as I looked out into the lot. From all directions, the compound seemed to go on forever, a white shroud of the eternal blizzard from everywhere. It was also very dark that morning, with no floodlights or any modern prison convenience for us all.

"Alright, wranglers." Rabbit said, jumping down from the ladder, patting me on the back. "Let's get to the mines before the Astrotia get any ideas."

" _Te cortaré las bolas y te las alimentarte como cerezas, Gringos._ "

Rabbit winced, and sarcastically chuckled. "Ah. Speak of the fucking demons."

I turned to see three Astrotia inmates standing close by. One was scrawny, but he appeared to be right at the head of this pack. I'd seen this clown before and fighting him was nothing new.

"Hey, _hombre. Amigo!_ " I chuckled.

"Don't provoke them, Troy." Rabbit said.

I shrugged, and went back to getting my boots on, and lacing them up.

" _¡Oye! ¿Me escuchas?_ "

" _Si_." Nessa growled. "He heard you."

"Ahh! _Y estas Gringas!_ "

Nadine and Nessa both eyed the Astrotia down.

"Can you even count, _ese_?" Nadine snapped. "There's five of us and three of you."

The Astrotia leader looked about the five of us. Even Oaken crossed his arms. I had heard about his dealing with unruly customers in his store. We could indeed take them.

" _Órale._ " He snapped. " _Esta noche, pendejo._ "

They stomped off into the snow, leaving the five of us to head off on our own to breakfast.

"Well, that went well." Nadine said, scowling at me. "You sure know how to pick your fights."

"Yeah, those guys clearly don't know how to count." I said. "I mean, it's three against me? Maybe get like… five more to take me on? And _then_ we'll call it even."

"Those guys were threatening to cut your balls off, Troy." Nessa said. "You think because you don't speak their tongue that you can get away with saying whatever you want?"

"My big brother's gotten every chance to learn their language, girls." Rabbit said, though with his typical hopelessness of me. "He's got his own problems to worry about."

I looked out into the storm. Wind began to blow in my direction, so I pulled my bandana up to my mouth.

"I heard the door open last night." I said, raising my voice as we began to walk out to the next building. It was a good fifty yards away, but the storm would make it an expedition. On better days, I would have maybe been able to see it from here. But it never stopped snowing here. Elsa would have loved it.

"Yeah." Nadine shouted back. "Kris left us. I saw him open the door just as I was drifting off."

"Shit!" I said. "I kinda liked that guy."

There was no other exchange of words as we made our way through. Most of us were trying hard not to breathe and accidentally inhale a wad of snow.

It was the choice that he had made in the night. We were free men and women. Free to leave and die if we so chose to do so.

* * *

The mess hall where meals were handed out was the only other building we knew of on the lot. There could have been close to a dozen more buildings here, and we wouldn't know the difference. Though, there had to be some housing for the guards. Despite the promises that we were indeed free men set to live out the rest of our lives as we saw fit, if we started work for the day, those guards were there to ensure that we would work for the rest of the day. And some of those guards made it clear how much they hated it here.

That morning, we sat there, doing our best to ignore the looks from the Astrotia. Some stood on the walkways above, eyeing us down like vultures on the branches. All the rest kept their heads down, doing everything they could not to be called on.

Nadine, Nessa and Oaken sat at the other side of the table while Rabbit and I sat on our side. Breakfast was… you know what, I honestly couldn't tell you what they were feeding us at this place. All I could tell you for certain was that it came in a bowl, and it tasted mediocre; though a hell of a lot better than what it looked like.

"They're going to make you fight again."

I chuckled. "They know how well that ended for them the last time."

Oaken stiffened. He barely had spoken since we got here. It seemed to do him well; no one dared try to mess with someone as big as him.

"If you're lucky, the guards will make you work the heavy loads so much, you'll be too exhausted for tonight."

"And what about you ladies?" Rabbit said. "I've seen both of you fight them once, and never again."

Nessa scoffed. "They underestimate me. They underestimate the whole lot of us."

It seemed a fair statement. Women were seen as inferior in the Southern Isles. What I could remember of our little research here was that half of the Southern Isle princes were married, and none of their wives had really been seen at political events.

"Then take that as a challenge." Rabbit said. "Show them that we're worthy to take anything that they can throw at us."

" _Ja_." Oaken added, simply. This was typical of him, now. I heard from Asgeir that this guy was a chatterbox back home, but clearly, he was either very afraid, or very angry since he got here to be so quiet. Either one would have made sense to me.

Rabbit glanced over at the table in the corner, while I remained stationary, staring straight ahead.. Everywhere that we seemed to go, Astrotia members dwelt. Things never seemed to improve for us, which in my experience always seemed to lead me to crack more jokes.

People often go on about how I have a mouth bigger than my brain. I like to think my mouth is what keeps my brain functional. Asgeir and Rabbit have such a serious outlook on life. But if we mean to make life better for the people of the world, shouldn't we live by some sort of example?

"Oi!" A whistle came from above. "Assignments!"

I looked up as guards from posted balconies towards the ceiling of the massive hall gathered around. Many of them dropped writing boards down, where prisoners scrambled to get them. Every morning, new assignments for the day were handed out. But only the ones who grabbed first could get the easier ones. If it was possible to call the other jobs easier. Rabbit got up from his seat with the others, getting ready to take the assignments that fell to the floor beside us.

Rabbit always did what he could to make sure he and I got similar jobs, so we could stay close. The others had been with us since day one, but we were brothers. We had to stick together.

He came back shortly with two writing boards.

"Good news." He said. "You get to grab an axe and pick the salt instead of picking your nose for a change."

I grinned, which was rare enough as it was for a place like this.

Nessa and Nadine came back. "Shoveling snow. What a fucking useless assignment here."

The air that hung about Nessa was as depressing and dreary as she looked. She often looked pale, even for a place like this. Nadine had dark hair, and not as dark skin. I think she was of Agrabah descent or something of the sort.

She tried to go back to her breakfast, but it didn't end up well.

"Oh, gods." She choked.

I stared at her. "Don't look at it!" I said. "That's a rookie mistake!"

* * *

It's often strange how one small move you make early in the morning can decide the rest of the day. One of the first swings of the pickaxe into the cavern wall we worked in, I did at a funny angle. It jammed a muscle in my shoulder, and the day only got longer and colder from there. I kept wishing that it would end. Wishing that everything would just somehow come to a close to help us all.

Everything was fallen apart. Asgeir was dead. Zar and Jason were dead. Anna and Kristoff were dead. Everything had now led to us spending the last… I wasn't even sure at this point how much time we had spent here. All that I was sure of was that the world that we had left behind was long gone, and even if we would somehow be able to find our way out of here, the world that we would lay eyes on would not be the same one that we had come to know before.

It was a much simpler world. One where everything was plain and in sight for all of us. We knew our enemies, and we knew our goals. We sought the chance to find King George of Misthaven and destroy him for the enslavement that we had lived with for the early years of our childhoods. That was our livelihood, and now it was all torn apart and burned at the seams, leaving us buried in the snow.

The mineshaft we worked in was one of the deepest that had been recently excavated. Recent diggings had unearthed several new veins of ore, and now we were being sent down to dig it up. We had to be close to a mile beneath the surface, under over a hundred feet of snow after the fact. The depth that we had reached underground caused some heat to pass up from below, but it didn't help much.

In this part of the mine, I axed out the salt, and Rabbit shoveled what I mined out into a mine cart. The boy who hauled the excavations had left five minutes ago, and wouldn't be back until he carried what we had mined back to the surface.

It was hard work, and we were barely even fed enough. It wouldn't surprise me if I found out some people would have just died while working in these horrible conditions, but I might never know: the guards kept everything secret from us while we worked. And I would even bet that some of the other prisoners would be too scared to tell anyone else the kind of horror stories these psychos running the joint were capable of.

This was everything that we had been used to. We fought hard to climb out of this pit when we were children, eventually having our chains broken off by the man himself, Daniel Swortssen. But now we were back in it, with our chains on even tighter to make sure we would never see the light of day ever again. The sun would never shine here in Sript, and the less hopeful side of me was very doubtful that I would ever see it again.

Closing my eyes, I could still remember the feeling of the sun on my face two years ago. Or really, thirty-two years ago. I didn't really care about the difference.

Summer was an especially hot one that year. I remember looking up to the sky, seeing the blazing sun shining through the trees. Sweat ran down my brow as I returned to earth, back with my brother.

Rabbit knelt down into the dirt, examining the tracks we were following, he focused, closing his eyes.

"It went this way." He said. "Let's go."

Keeping low and quiet, Rabbit led the way as we kept following the tracks. Steam rose off the rocks to our right. Today was hot, and it was exhausting. Yet, we were running low on food, so Asgeir sent us off to find food.

Asgeir had been quiet this morning. When we went on this trip by Matthew's suggestion, Asgeir planned the route out himself. He kept to himself as soon as he asked us what day it was. It had been the middle of Julyt. And now we were reaching the peak of this blazing summer, our water running low. Asgeir said he had gone off to find a spring, but some part of me doubted it. All he seemed to be doing this trip was brooding.

Rabbit and I kept to the trees, following the tracks along a point in the forest where the trees were cut off to a clearing. The tracks began to look fresher and fresher until…

"Stay low." Rabbit whispered.

From the clearing I could see a stag grazing on a patch of grass. Rabbit pulled an arrow out of his quiver, while I drew my hatchet.

"And what do you plan on doing with that?" He asked.

"I'll throw it, and see me drop him." I replied.

"Not likely." Rabbit replied. "Not from this distance."

"And you think you got the shot?"

"I _know_ I do." Rabbit shot back.

The stag was starting to move away from the grass he was grazing at. His ears began to twitch, and I knew that he was starting to hear me and Rabbit arguing quietly. With no other option open for me, I finally opted to shut up and let him do his thing.

Rabbit began to draw his bow. He had his focus, and he had his eye on the target. I had two flintlocks that I often used to kill, but never to hunt. I was not a good shot with a bow, which was a hard pill for me to swallow.

Suddenly, as I leaned back, I heard a loud snap.

Rabbit spun around, fire in his eyes as he saw the broken twig I stood on. The stag also heard the twig, and began to trot away. Throwing all caution to the fire, I stood up with the speed of a cat, and tossed my hatchet.

"Troy, NO!" Rabbit cried.

The wind must have caught the tomahawk in mid air. It curved wide of the mark, and landed a few feet from where the stag had been standing as he began to gallop away.

Rabbit smacked me upside my head as I began to curse the tomahawk for curving so widely. I was about to go run over to grab it and try again, when a loud shatter broke through the trees.

The stag was almost out of site, but now it slumped right over, falling straight into the muck.

From the trees came our other brother. Tall, black shaggy hair and face as grim as his nickname, Asgeir had his flintlock raised, smoke rising from the barrel as he looked over at us.

"Who scared that stag?" He demanded. "Who was it?"

Rabbit immediately pointed right at me.

Asgeir groaned, grabbing my hatchet and placing it back in my hand.

"You can carry him back to camp, Troy." He said. "I'm not having Rabbit go through exhaustion for your stupidity."

Not saying another word, I knelt down into the forest ground, picked up the stag by the legs, and hoisting it over my shoulder. He weighed a ton, but I continued with my silence. I would have spoken back, but Asgeir had been in a much more grim mood than normal, so I knew that I was already skating on very thin ice with him.

* * *

The fire that Asgeir had started back at camp was still blazing when we came back. It was beginning to get dark.

"What were you doing?" Rabbit asked. "We're off hunting the stag and all of the sudden we see you driving a shot through his dome."

"I got bored." Asgeir said. "Needed to keep my mind busy is all. Thought you guys could use some help."

Rabbit glanced back at me. "Clearly."

I threw the stag down. Blood trickled out of the bullet hole Asgeir had left in the stag's face.

"I don't need nagging from both you guys today." I replied. "The wind caught my tomahawk and that's why I missed."

Rabbit opened his mouth to retort, but Asgeir held up his hand.

"I'll handle this, Rabbit. Can you clean him?" He pointed down at the stag.

Rabbit nodded, and Asgeir beckoned for me to follow him.

"You're not the expert hunter you claim to be, Troy." He said as we kept walking.

"I do alright for what we got."

"You're sloppy. You can't seem to admit where you need improvement. Humility lies in even the greatest Assassins. You think Ezio could hunt the way Connor could?"  
"I'm neither Ezio nor Connor. I am Troy, and I don't need you to compare me to them."

Asgeir glared at me. "Maybe. But if you can't admit where your limits lie, then you stop yourself from pushing those limits."

He drew his dagger, walking to a nearby tree and carving a big "X" into it's trunk. It was difficult to see with the darkness filling the forest, but I could still make it out clear enough.

"Hit the X." He said, walking back over to me.

I eyed him curiously, then drew my tomahawk. I'd show him. Rabbit mocked me regularly, but I am the older brother, and I would show him to be a smart arse with me.

The wind caught my tomahawk again when I tossed it. It landed much to wide and much too short of the tree. Asgeir shook his head, sighing.

"It was the wind!" I tried to explain.

"The sooner you admit what it really was, the sooner you can understand that you're not ready to throw that thing." He said. "You don't have the aim or the arm to throw that hatchet for the kill. And what happens if you choose to make that move when the other guy is holding a pistol?" He took a step forwards. "Better yet, what happens if you try to throw it when a Templar is holding one of us?"

The way how his brow creased with frustration, I knew exactly what Asgeir was talking about. Years back we tailed him while he went on a mission to hunt down King George. Both Rabbit and I were arguing when George had Asgeir at knifepoint, and now Asgeir sported a scar that framed his face. From his right cheek, up to his left eyebrow. I never thought about it that much. It never seemed to shake me.

Asgeir walked over to the tomahawk, kneeling down and picking it up.

"We're Assassins, Troy." He said. "We don't take unnecessary risks. We don't gamble."

He held out the handle to me.

"What do you propose I do, then?"

He thought about it for a second. "Train. Train for the day that you will need to throw that axe. And in the meantime, find an alternative."

"I have an alternative." I replied, proudly tapping my flintlocks.

"Loud, clumsy alternatives." He shot back. "You want a proper weapon? Take a page from Rabbit's book. Go for a bow. It's quiet."

I was about to retort, when something fluttered down and landed on Asgeir's cheek. It settled there for a moment before melting. Wait… was that a… snowflake?

Asgeir and I both looked up in puzzlement. Suddenly, snow began to come down thickly and in almost sheets. Confused, I looked back at Asgeir, whose face suddenly turned grimmer than ever.

"Elsa."

* * *

We returned to camp to find Rabbit shivering by the fire. Not three hours ago he was sweating his balls off, and now he was regretting removing the sleeves off his hood.

"Grab everything you can carry." Asgeir ordered. "We're going."

"T-t-the bl-oody hell are y-you going on about?" Rabbit stuttered.

"We need to get to the fjord." He said. "Don't ask any more questions."

Elsa. I remember Matthew saying that name before. She was Arendelle's crown princess. Rabbit and I rarely kept track of the names of the nobles here in Arendelle, spending so much time in Misthaven trying to track down and kill King George. But everyone in the kingdom had been talking about this for weeks. How her and her sister were making their first real public appearances in three years on the Summer Solstice… and that was today.

"Cripes." I muttered. "Is something going on with Queen Elsa?"

Asgeir looked back at me, fire almost sparking up in his eyes.

"You both don't know the kind of mess that could be following her. Have you two ever seen snow in July?!" He pointed to the sky. "Whatever is going on, we need to get to the fjord before someone does something stupid!"

Asgeir was being nothing but vague and confusing. But I knew that neither of us were going to get answers, so I kept quiet as we followed our brother.

The snow was coming down in further sheets. Rabbit kept rubbing his bare arms, now looking stupid enough for me to feel a bit better for his mocking of me with the stag. Such a waste in the end, since we had to leave the thing half-cleaned at our now abandoned camp.

I had never seen Asgeir so clear focused on anything before in his life. He had the things that he was chasing after; what Assassins didn't? But this seemed to be on some whole different level. The grim expression that would have suited a skeleton more than him was now more present than ever on his stubbled cheeks, which were now growing red with the cold coming in. I pulled my hood further over my head as we made our way to the edge of the fjord.

Ice. Ice everywhere. The entire fjord was frozen over in the middle of summer. Rabbit and I could even see entire ships trapped right in the middle of all the ice, tipping uneasily in precarious directions. Asgeir's breath caught in his throat as he looked out at the entire fjord. The town was dark and quiet, as was the palace. But torches were suddenly lighting up over the bay, and men were beginning to make their way across the ice. Sleighs were being drawn out by horses, the men grabbing more torches and… swords?

Asgeir didn't say another word. He just ran. One minute we were coming to the fjord from the Northeast, the second he shot off heading directly north. Rabbit and I followed, watching our brother skim along the shoreline of the forest.

He stopped suddenly, looking out at the sleighs that were shooting off across the water. Indistinct yells could be heard from their drivers as Asgeir began muttering to himself.

"C'mon. C'mon. How do I stop them?"

I looked down at the ice. Pebbles on the beach were visible right below the surface, but if the ice was thick enough to hold the sleighs, my hatchet would not be anywhere close enough to be able to make a dent.

Asgeir wasn't paying attention to either of us. He simply shot off again, running faster than I had ever seen him run before. It almost seemed like he was chasing after something.

"What do we do?" Rabbit called.

I didn't know the answer to that, and if Asgeir did, he wasn't stopping to tell us. We kept cutting through the woods, dodging branches and pines, vaulting over fallen trees and running up others. Asgeir needed to stop the sleighs, but we didn't know how. Not without drawing attention to ourselves.

Suddenly, we reached the road. The shoreline to the fjord was not far off, and Asgeir suddenly stopped right in the middle.

He knelt down at tracks in the snow. They were fresh.

Squinting his eyes, he looked around at the tracks. I felt my own focus manifest, and saw a shape form in the tracks.

A young woman. Hair tied up in a tight bun behind her head, long dress and train trailing behind her.

Asgeir didn't say anything else. He started kicking away all the tracks.

"The fuck are you…?" Rabbit said.

"Start kicking up the tracks. Cover them, lead them somewhere else, I don't care!" Asgeir ordered. "We need to lead them off course!"

Rabbit and I did what he told us, not asking any further questions. We didn't have long, so I ran off to cover up the tracks leading far away from the road as they headed from the beach, to the road, and then to the base of the mountains. From up high above, I could see the peak of the North Mountain, ice and snow frosting the top fast enough, most of it there year round.

"Troy!" I heard Rabbit whisper.

I understood, and ran back to the road, darting into a bush. Asgeir climbed rapidly up into a tree as the sleighs finally made their way from the frozen bay to the beach, finally arriving at the road intersection we were hiding.

"Hold!" one of the guards called. "Where do the tracks lead us, men? She must have headed this way!"

Guards jumped out of their sleighs, looking around the road. Only confused murmurs returned to the one who stood at the front.

"If I may, Halldor." A bald guard spoke up.

"What is it, Admiral?"

He chuckled. "We're being a bit haste here, aren't we? We act as though we know everything, like we're going to catch Her Majesty with this kind of gesture that we're going for. All the muskets, all the sleighs, and we're after one person. She's our queen."

Halldor stroked his goatee. "Whatever sorcery I saw back there in the square, it threatens all of us in Arendelle, Henrik. I will do my duty as a sworn protector of Arendelle and find the truth."

Admiral Henrik shrugged. "As will I. What I'm merely suggesting is that we take a second to breath, regroup, and figure out the best way to catch her."

"By the time we do that, she'll be long gone. In all this snow, she must have left her tracks behind. The sooner we track her, the sooner we find her."

"And then what?"

A guard came back. "Sir, the tracks… they're going in random directions! She's somehow managed to drift the snow in separate directions! No idea where she is going!"

Halldor was about to respond, when another horse suddenly came up from the beach behind the large group of sleighs.

"Admirals Halldor and Brovold!"

"Yes?" Halldor replied, stepping down from the sleigh.

"Prince Hans requests that you stand down on Princess Anna's orders." The guard on the horse replied. "Fall back to the castle and let Her Highness handle this."

"There. You see?" Henrik chuckled. "Our Princess Anna can take care of this herself."

"She is just a child!" Halldor shot back.

"And you're free to tell Prince Hans that you went out of your way to disobey Princess Anna." Henrik replied. "But me, I'm taking the rest of us back to the palace. Princess Anna is a tough cookie."

Halldor was on the verge of protesting, but when he saw the looks that all the rest of the guards were giving him and Henrik, he growled, and called out.

"Very well. Fall back!" He ordered. "We're heading back to the palace! We're not going to find her in this mess!"

The sleighs and the guards carrying them took no time to clear off. Soon they were on their way back across the bay, left to weave back and forth between the stranded ships, and the three of us to stay behind and figure our next move.

"What the hell is going on?" Rabbit asked.

"Elsa lost control." Asgeir muttered, clearly to just himself. "Before long they'll hunt her down and butcher her."

"Asgeir, you better start explaining this stuff beyond some fucking vague bullshit!" I snapped, feeling my arm tense, nearly releasing my blade.

Asgeir glanced back at me and Rabbit, almost with a sense of grim mockery. "This snow… it's all coming from her. My half-sister Elsa."

"What?" I said.

"My mother was Queen Gerda. Those two princesses are my half-sisters." Asgeir said. "I'm one of the only living souls who knows why the gates of that castle have been locked for the better part of fifteen years!"

He looked up at the snow clouds. "Something… I don't know what… it touched Elsa when she was a child. Matthew told me all of this. Whatever happened today, she's let it all out. And now it's winter in June."

I glanced at Asgeir. All this time he had family other than me and Rabbit. Maybe he never saw me and Rabbit as his brothers, but we had been his family the longest. Even after Daniel had his head chopped off by the King of Arendelle, we had stayed his brothers. These girls that he had been keeping an eye on… they were his only living blood left.

I felt a twinge of jealousy, but said nothing else. I let Rabbit say what we were both thinking.

"So what do we do?" He asked.

Asgeir looked back in the direction of where Elsa's tracks were leading. She had ran from the castle, across the fjord. And now she was heading to the North Mountain.

"Nothing. We've done enough. We've thrown the guards off the trail for now, and that'll have to suffice."

"Why?" Rabbit asked. "We covered up her tracks, we could follow her, we could protect her-"

"Her family has had enough shameful secrets unveiled for one day." Asgeir shot back. "We nearly broke the most important tenet today to protect her. And she will never know about it. I promise."

I glanced up at the North Mountain with unease. The cold wind rattled the woods as we stood there. Rabbit shivered again.

"Then can we go get some hot ch-chocolate?" He stuttered.

* * *

The six months that followed and Asgeir kept to the shadows of Arendelle, protecting those girls. Hans turned out to have been a Templar all along; Charming nobles rarely weren't. While Rabbit and I returned to business as usual after we survived the Eternal Winter, Asgeir stayed in Arendelle to protect those girls from threats that they would never see coming. The invisible shield that they clearly needed more than anyone would give them credit for. And when the Templars tried to pin an assassination attempt on us, Asgeir had no choice but to come out and reveal himself to those two girls.

Of course, I felt jealous about it all, but Rabbit and I coped with it by simply running back to Misthaven to find King George. Asgeir obsessed over this fantasy family that he held with those girls. They were bound by blood, but the three of us were bound by the Brotherhood. We stayed with him for years, even after Daniel lost his head to his sisters' father. All the same, this was only the beginning.

Following the assassination attempt on Anna, Asgeir held off two more attacks against the royal sisters. Once against the Gemini Twins of the Southern Isles. Political tensions were high against Arendelle and the Southern Isles because of Hans' efforts to seize the throne, and they nearly toppled over into all out war when Asgeir killed Prince Fritz. It was a miracle that Elsa and Elias were able to publicly negotiate a temporary truce before Hans would seize the throne once more years later.

But before that came Ryan, a Rogue Assassin. He came from Corona to kill Elsa, believing her to be a danger to us if we were to enter a secret alliance with the Arendelle crown. By Assassin laws, Asgeir had full clearance to kill him, and yet, things would never be the same between us and our brothers to the south in Corona.

Asgeir had fought long and hard to establish our roots in Arendelle once more. It was a dream of his father's before he died. And now he was missing, most likely dead, along with the rest of the Assassins. Elsa was also long gone, most likely dead. And Anna and Kristoff were both very dead, rotting at the bottom of the ocean because Rabbit and I failed to protect her the way that we swore to her.

* * *

I spiked another bit of salt out of the cavern wall. The cart that we were filling up with salt was nearly full, and by my count, the kid who would be pushing it back up to the surface would be coming back around soon. Everything that we fought for, everything that we lived for, was now buried along with us at the bottom of the coldest isle in all of the Southern Isles.

Slamming my pickaxe into the wall of the cavern, I felt my shoulder twinge. I groaned as I fell back, falling flat on my arse. I don't know how long we were down here for, but it must have been at least half the day. Lunch buckets had been brought down at some point, and now Rabbit and I were back to work.

Rabbit silently grabbed my hand, helping me back up. He and I knew better than to speak down here. The last person to show anything close to lip with one of the slavers down here was rewarded with his pickaxe being swung right into his face. They carried his body back up the shaft with the axe still in.

Rabbit suddenly looked down at where I had dropped my axe, looking puzzled down at it. I spun around and knelt down.

Beside my axe, something had fallen out onto the floor beside the broken salt fragments I had mined out. It was a peculiar little thing. It was white, almost with some sort of metal inlay. It almost looked like bronze was carved right into the object, which was shaped almost like a Y; three prongs in separate directions.

I picked it up, and suddenly hissed. It was very hot to the touch, almost burning. It made the whole area feel a tad warmer, but not by that much. Rabbit looked uneasily at the object as I pulled ym sleeve over and placed the object over my sleeved hand.

There was indeed some sort of dark tarnished metal that was inlaid with the object, but it was now clear that most of what made the object was actually bone. Some sort of ivory, but I couldn't tell of what. I nearly prayed that it wasn't human bone that made this thing.

Hoping dearly that whatever this thing was didn't burn in my pocket, I quickly slipped it right in there. Rabbit gave me a knowing look as we heard the stomping of one of the slavers coming around the corner.

We were under strict instructions to give anything interesting that we found to the slavers. Whether or not this whole mine existed for the purposes of finding such a thing, Rabbit and I were not sure of. But all I knew was that I didn't want to give this thing to bastards who reminded me of dark places. Dark _familiar_ places of our childhood. Sometimes, the slavers even had the same face to me, and I could remember that sense of helplessness I felt when I would provoke the guards to hit me instead of my little brother.

They had the same face. And they definitely had the same eyes.

* * *

I smirked as a fist came flying right at my face. I was expecting the punch, and it didn't exactly tickle, and yet this was what I had been looking forward to all day.

Almost every night a fight broke out. Most prisons would discourage all this fighting, but to the guards, this was their nightly entertainment, to see their inmates kick the crap out of each other.

An invisible ring had been assembled with all the inmates cheering the fight on. This ring had me and Rabbit taking on the Astrotias that we had seen this morning.

The short one who had been leading them smirked as he held up his hands.

" _Vamos gringo! Quiero verte sangrar!_ " He chuckled.

I cracked my neck. "If you insist, _pendejo!_ "

Shorty jumped forwards, weaving back and forth rapidly. I gave a quick jab out front, but he was waiting for me to make a move as he charged me. He ducked, spinning around and hooking me right in the-

" _HUAGH!_ " I groaned, feeling my insides churn. A good strike to the balls, and everything was going blurry and painful. The pain is immediate, and then it grows over time when a man is struck in the crotch.

"Hahaah!" Shorty cackled. " _¡Te lo dije!_ "

Suddenly, Rabbit jumped out from behind the two guys he was taking on, and landed right on top of Shorty. His legs right on his shoulders, my little brother began hammering his fists right onto Shorty's head. The Astrotia leader winced with pain as the crowd kept cheering everyone on. From above in the rafters, I could see guards throwing coins at each other, clearly trying to keep track of the bets that they were putting on this brawl that was taking place.

" _HIJO DE PUTA!_ " Shorty screamed. " _Obtener este bastardo!_ "

Still reeling from my balls being hit, I tried to steady myself with a table nearby, and then got right back up. Rabbit was still on top of Shorty, throwing punch after punch to his head. I nearly puked as I stood up, the whole hall around us spinning. The noise of the cheering crowd was unbelievable, but then a big shape came from behind the crowd, and steadied me.

"Let's get these turkeys, Troy!"

I squinted my eyes to see Nadine and Nessa suddenly come out from behind Oaken and take on the other Astrotia that were ganging up against Rabbit. Oaken remained silent, looking down on me.

"I'll be okay, big guy!" I cried. "Go get 'em!"

Shorty was now looking even more angry than scared as Oaken joined in the fight. Or was it the other way around? Rage and confusion painted his face like Jackson Pollock. It was now evenly matched by numbers with the five of us taking on him and four of his guys.

" _¡Todo el mundo!_ " He screamed. " _¡tiralos afuera!_ "

When I was fully steady, I saw more Astrotia invite themselves into the ring. The crowd of people was now forming up thicker than ever, and I knew that this fight would last long into the night. All started because Rabbit and I were the "bad guys" in this prison according to the guards. Bad guys who needed a lesson in manners.

I cracked my knuckles, and joined in.


	5. Chapter 5: Thayer I

Chapter 4: Thayer I

 _February 1789_

I accept my status as a monster. It's what I had to become to survive my line of work. The life that I live. I am a hunter of sorts. A rightful Lord. And a collector. I would also consider myself to be the Apex Predator of my food chain.

The weapons carried within my carriage are a mixed pot. Ordinary swords and bows and various other weapons, with nothing special about them. And weapons from the very essence of legends, some said to be forged by the gods themselves.

Considering how far from home I was, no one would even know what these weapons were, or what they were capable of. And from what I saw of the corruption and evil that touched this world, that would be for the best.

The road continued on for many leagues before it began to climb. Drucilla became more and more tired the further we went on, and I found myself having to stop just as often. The journey was turning more treacherous than ever. It reminded me of the expedition our company made south such months ago. I was all that was left of that party, and now here I was, where no one would ever know the name of the valley or the castle where so many of us perished.

The mountains we climbed looked like the outside of a massive, stony bowl. Snow frosted peaks jutted out, high above my head. I huddled as close to the torch in it's sconce as I could afford, doing what I could to stay warm.

At last, three days after meeting those two travellers on the road, we reached the summit. From there, the road suddenly dropped downwards. Finally, I could lay my eyes on the sights of the sea. The villagers inland said it was known as the Shining Sea, which embraced its sights on all of the coastal kingdoms. Arendelle, The Southern Isles, Misthaven, and Corona.

I found maps in the village, too. Not because I was lost. Rarely did I get lost, especially with the help of Drucilla. Simply to learn the geography of the realm, knowing that I might have to cover the entirety of this world to find him.

"C'mon, girl." I said, giving a quick smooch to the freezing air. Drucilla gently whickered, trundling along down the path, which began to go down at a concerning grade.

I let go of the reins, placing them in their holder beside me. With both hands free, I took hold of the brake lever with one hand, ready to pull it to keep hold on the old girl. The other hand pulled out the book I had been reading from under my seat. _Volo's Guide to Monsters._ A black cover, carved with a silver visage into it. Like that of a squid's but not a squid's. I had never actually seen one of those creatures before, but I looked forward to the day I got to kill one.

" _Hags delight in corrupting others._ " The book read at the place that I had been reading. " _They do so not by imposing their will, or being outwardly violent, but by making sinister bargains with those that seek their aid. This desire to orchestrate the downfall of others is why so many hags make their homes near humanoid settlements, which gives them a steady supply of creatures to tantalize and torment_."

Gods, even just reading about these creatures was enough to make the corrupted blood that ran through my veins boil. All monsters were a blight on the world that had to be cured. But hags… witches… warlocks… they were something else entirely. They're what makes the sun go down, as does all that the good pulls the sun up into the sky. I felt my sickly, discolored veins fill with rage.

I consider myself to be an excellent hunter. Over three dozen dead by my hand alone, another dozen with the help of others in the Order. And six whole covens slain, decapitated, and burned at the stake.

Some in the Order didn't enjoy our work. We committed murder, and called it justice. But I found plenty to enjoy in it. Not just because of the people that we saved. But also, because I _hated_ witchcraft with the deepest inferno in my heart.

I put the book down by my foot, and put my eyes back to the road. The rage that drove me was better to be kept buried until I saw the monster. Then I would stick my swords up his demonic arse.

* * *

The mountains I had spent days climbing took a few hours for me to ride downwards. The ice forced a lot of caution onto myself and Drucilla, but regardless, it was a much easier ride. Before long, we were reaching the outskirts of the city. To a large checkpoint with close to a dozen guards.

"Hold!" One of the guards called.

I stopped the carriage a good distance away from the gate.

"Who goes there?"

"It is I, Lord Thayer Dupree. Son of Alarick Dupree!" I replied.

My family held no stake here in this world. I wondered if there was even a family with the name Dupree here. Yet, I felt the need to sound even the slightest bit official on my way to my audience with the King.

The guard who spoke muttered something to his friends, then called back.

"What is your business here, Milord?"

"I seek an audience with His Majesty, King Hans of Arendelle." I replied.

The guard gestured with a nod for his buddies to follow as he approached. They all had rifles drawn. Guns did not exist where I came from, but their presence gave me great interest. I wondered what kind of effect I would have if I shot a werewolf with a silver bullet out of a rifle.

"What's in the carriage?"

"Personal effects." I replied. "And I would appreciate if they be left untouched."

"Oh, you hear that, boys?" He cackled. "He thinks he can get into Arendelle with a locked carriage untouched." He turned back to me. "Well, _Milord_ , I'll make this clear: until further notice, Arendelle's castle town is on lockdown. No one goes in or out without special permit."

I began to think through my options. Maybe I could try to bribe them, but something about how they were speaking to me told me that it would have to be very steep to turn them the other cheek. Besides, my gold wasn't even minted here. I couldn't be sure that it would buy anything out here.

"You won't be getting past the gate unless you show us your permit, and open up the carriage. You have no permit, or you would have shown it to me. And you have already refused to open the carriage. So, turn this beast around, and piss off!"

I cracked my neck, sighing. "From which side of the city are we?" I asked.

"The South-Eastern Gate." One of the other guards replied.

"And what time is it?"

"Just half past one, Sire." The same guard said, consulting his watch.

"Thank you." I said, jumping from the carriage. I took Drucilla's reins and began to lead her around to turn.

Suddenly we heard the squeaking of wheels turning, and approaching hooves. Through the misty winter air, three large carriages were approaching. One was a large cage, filled with various individuals. Another was of black polished wood, very finely made.

I was just beginning to get out of the way for the carriage, when the door to the black one opened. A well-dressed man with blonde hair got out, looking back down the road before turning to the guards at the gate. He spat loudly onto the cold, gravel road.

"The fuck is this?" He snapped.

The guards snapped to attention. "Prince Alexander! Your Highness."

"Answer my question, shitbag." He said, coming up beside me. He didn't acknowledge me. "Care to explain what is going on?"

"Begging your pardons, sir. This Lord Thayer here claims he is seeking an audience with your brother."

"Which one?" He sniggered. "I have close to a dozen of them." He held up his hand. "Don't answer that. I know the answer. I'm on my way to see the little rat anyways."

He turned to me, eyeing me up and down. He brushed his index finger over his eye.

"What happened there?" He said, referencing my scar.

I ran my hand over it, feeling the scabbing blood. It never properly healed. It looked like it had happened only three days ago last time I checked. And the time before that. And before that. It had looked the same as it had for six months. It would always look that way. My eye was also severely scarred by my encounter, the white of my eye now a deep scarlet, and what had been once a deep purple eye now a pale, sickly white.

"Compliments of the last freak who tried to kill me." I said.

"Hah! He got you good."

I smirked. "I got the shite back even better. I separated his entire face from his head, then this head from his neck."

"I think you'll get along just fine with my little brother, then. Prince Alex of the Southern Isles at your service." He said, bowing. "

I gave a quick bow in return. "Lord Thayer Dupree."

"Ah. A Lord under our flag, or Arendelle's?"

"Neither. I'm from a far-off land. Been on a… sabbatical and heard that His Majesty has just taken the crown. I hoped for an audience, and the chance to strike an alliance with me."

"Well, I'm sure he would be willing for a Lord of any sort." Alex replied. "I myself was just taking some of these guys before the King himself." He pointed to the cage. They eyed me like sheep from the cage. They were all afraid. "Bandits. You can come with."

"Sire-"

"Fuck off, Liam." Alex replied. "He's armed, but that's forgivable for one of his stature; whoever isn't these days are either stupid or dead."

I was beginning to like this Alex. He knew how to put others in their place, reminding me a bit of Zelig. I gave him a nod as I climbed up onto my carriage, taking the reins. He quickly climbed into his own as the guards at the gate undid the massive latch, and pulled it back. Drucilla gave a quick whinny before we were off, following right behind the caravan.

* * *

Alex's caravan led us over into the seaside village, which lay at the heart of a massive fjord, opening only to the ocean. Mountains thousands of feet high loomed above us as I looked about the town with wonder.

There was clearly a blockade around this town. One would have thought it was a siege, meant to keep everyone in, not everyone out. That much was clear from a long line of ships anchored together that kept the fjord blocked. Nothing smaller than a frigate was present in the line, and they all flew the same colored sails: sky blue, with a yellow palm tree encompassed by a golden sun.

From the main village I didn't see townsfolk walk as I did any other town; Far from it. I could count on one hand how many people I saw outside the caravan, watching us from their homes in the apartment above, which were barred up by the windows.

The caravan came to the shoreline, where a long bridge led us out to a large structure on the water; the castle.

This King Hans did not earn his crown as I had heard from those who spoke of him. He had stolen it from two dead girls. Why? What made this kingdom so special? So important? I didn't see the answer to those questions in what I saw of the castle. But what I could see was a level of elegance that would make most Lords, even myself, feel at least a shred of envy. This castle had been built by people who knew true divinity. Peaked rooftops, and décor like no other.

The caravan led me and Drucilla across the bridge to the castle, where a pair of guards at the gates directed us towards a large group of stables. Even the gardens were massive, as though this entire castle was built on a small island within the direct center of the water on the fjord.

When I had the carriage pulled over to the stables, Alex jumped out of his own.

"So, who's this Rictavio that you run a carnival for?" He asked, walking over.

"The previous owner of the carriage, actually." I said. "He passed away bout six months ago. Left me the carriage, and good old Drucilla." I petted her mane as I spoke.

"Must have been a good man, Rictavio." He said.

"Aye." I replied. "And I would much appreciate it if none of the guards opened the door." I hefted my crossbow over my shoulder.

"That can be arranged." He said. He looked back at the guards and raised his hand.

Then Alex seemed to notice something. He was looking at my hands, which I guess anyone would have noticed were not gloved. It was how I dealt my business. But I also always kept my rings on. And he seemed to be focused on one on my right hand.

He nodded, then looked back up to me. "Now. Time for you to meet my brother."

Court was already in session as Alex, his escort of guards, and I made our way through the halls of the castle to the throne room. I saw various people dressed in fine clothes, and many eyed me with the same suspicion as everyone else. It angered me, even if I could empathize with them; I was one of them by my blood, yet they all saw me as an outsider. A freak. A monster hunting more terrible monsters.

From at the front of the throne room, I could see the man himself. Auburn hair held up a golden crown on his head, where he also wore a white coat with those ridiculous things on his shoulders. Epaulets, were they called? The poshest wankers wore those, as if they somehow made them look more presentable. But I was not one to talk about respectableness and image. I kept my mouth shut on these observations as Alex and I made our way through the nobles to the front. He was already speaking with someone at the front.

"Your words have moved me." He said, rubbing his square chin. I could now make out the thick sideburns that framed his smug face. "I will see this through, and find blankets for all who are in need of it."

"It is all of your subjects, Your Majesty." The woman said. " _All_ of your subjects are in need."

"I see." He replied. "But I also recognize that this winter has been the worst that Arendelle, and the Southern Isles alike has faced in living memory. I will be able to provide resources to those in need once I speak with the record keepers. We are still accounting the wool and wheat left in the storehouses, and after the final tally, we will be able to give what we can."

The woman at front looked dismayed from where I stood. She looked like she had travelled a long way, too; The smell that came from her was not of the town's.

Hans then straighten up in his seat. "Yet, I cannot disappoint a subject, lest I fail them. What would a reasonable number of blankets be for your village?"

The woman looked back up in surprise. "Dunno. Maybe bout sixty would do. Especially for the babes."

"My household can provide you with forty at the moment." He said, pointing to a scribe, who grabbed a parchment and quill, and began to write. "I will then see that another forty arrive to your village within the fortnight."

The woman bowed her head. "Thank you, Mil- sorry, Your Majesty."

Hans held his hand up. "For what offense would you apologize to me? You have done none. We are still in the middle of this transition stage, and some things have been overlooked. That is for me to apologize to you."

She nodded, and scurried off, keeping her head and her face down.

"Who is next?" King Hans said.

Alex began to walk forwards, and I followed.

"Prince Alexander of the Southern Isles, Your Majesty." He said, smirking.

The smile from Hans' face dropped like a crack of lightning. He stood up from his throne, scowling down at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"At ease, brother." Alex said, raising his hands. "Am I not here as a friend? As your blood? I come simply to see how things are going."

"They are going well, thank you." He snapped. "And it's no thanks to you, or any of the rest of you guys."

Alex smirked as I stood beside him. "Indeed. May I present Lord Thayer Dupree." He gestured to me.

"Lord of Aeskrow Hold. Knight of the Maelstrom. Saviour of Barovia. Avenger of Lightnin', and Blade of the Sun." I said, stating my titles.

Or rather, they _would_ be my titles if someone had been keeping track of them. But as a rightful lord, I had to have some for credibility with these arseholes. 'Tis how the game is played.

There were murmurs in the crowd as Hans sat back down, eyeing me from his throne.

"Forgive me, My Lord." Hans said. "But I know nothing of Aeskrow Hold, nor Barovia. Neither do I know anything of the House of Dupree."

"They are far off lands from where I come from, Yer Majesty. Far across the lands of Misthaven." I said, standing my ground. My accent was a bit thick, but I hoped he could understand me. "But I have travelled for months for the chance to strike an alliance of sorts with the King of Arendelle. In good grace, I understand that if any and all chances are for Arendelle to prosper, alliances must be struck with the Lords of other kingdoms."

Hans put his hand to his chin, clearly in thought of some sort. I seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. All these lords and kings thought the same way.

"Might there be a way that you can prove you would be of some service to me?" He asked.

"I will vouch for him, bro-"

"I wasn't talking to you, Alex." Hans snapped. I could sense a lot of tension from Hans and his brother. Even if there wasn't an exchange of hostility from Alex, it was almost as though Hans was expecting some sort of it from him. He was being very sensitive about it.

But I knew the answer to his question. I turned to Alex. "Bring in those bandits you had wit' yah." I whispered to him.

He grinned. "You got it."

"What are you doing?" Hans asked.

I only raised an eyebrow at him. The King may have been only a few years older than me, but he was acting like a child. He knew nothing of real pain.

While Alex went to go get his guards, I stepped off to the side to let other lords come up with their own problems.

One lord came in and said that his citizens were becoming restless with the increased amount of Southern Isles troops. Hans gave him full authority to arrest anyone who spoke out of his comfort zone, to which the lord agreed, laughing.

It was hard to get a read on this Hans. Which side was he really on? To one villager, he promises blankets to survive the winter. To a lord, he gives authority to imprison anyone who speaks against him. Very difficult…

Alex came back moments later, with the bandits that he had brought with him.

"Who are these people?" Hans sneered.

"Caught these guys raiding our camp while we were out hunting. They killed the three guards I had left to hold the fort, but they made the mistake of staying put. Didn't think that there would be more of us."

Hans glared down at them. "Discord. You dare bring discord to my kingdom?"

"Aye." The one to the left said. "You're not welcome here! You pompous buffoons belong on those shit stained rocks you call the Southern Isles!"

Hans sighed, as though the bandit who stood before him was just an infant spouting nonsense neither of them understood.

"Get them out of my sight."

"Your Majesty, if I may?" I said. "Here's how I can prove my worth to you. I'll show you what happens to those who speak against us."

Alex held his hand up, ordering the other guards to stop for a moment. Hans raised an eyebrow at me.

Alex stepped up. "They're going to the executioner's block at dawn." He said. "What could you possibly do to them that we will do a day from now?"

"Only prove that I'm more than any captain of his navy, or commander of his army."

Hans sat up in place, before nodding to his scribe.

"Court is dismissed for the day! All hail King Hans!" The scribe announced.

"Hail King Hans!" I heard a few replies as they filed out of the massive throne room.

This place would have to suffice for my proving ground. I almost expected Hans would have wanted to see some proof that I would be a valuable asset of his. If there was this much unrest here with the occupation, then it would give me plenty of people to use as target practice. All for the good of my own people.

I pointed over to his guards. "Gentlemen, I would have you protect your King before I do my work on these thieves. Stand before him in defense, but give these scoundrels knives; I won't kill an unarmed opponent."

Hans chuckled. "An honorable sort. I like that."

I nodded, thinking of the few people I hated enough to make an exception for that rule. Most of all, the monster that His Majesty would lead me to.

The guards obliged to their orders, putting knives into the hands of the thieves, but not unlocking their manacles. Alex held the key, but passed it to one more guard before joining his brother near the throne.

The thieves, meanwhile, only looked up at me. They seemed to be a bit unsettled. Ever since I joined the Order, an unholy aura always surrounded me.

The guard slowly unlocked the manacles on the thieves, one by one. They were practically dared to try a move against him before he was done.

"I haven't felt blood run down my sword in days." I said, drawing my sword and crossbow. "I'm looking forward to this."

The first one yelled, lunging for me. He had one knife, whereas I had my sword, adorned with the red cross at the pommel. And my crossbow.

I had seen a bayonet attached to Ward's crossbow one time. He said he used it all the time, whenever he ran out of bolts. I was inspired, but where Ward put one, I put _four_ spikes on my crossbow.

This guy lunged for me, but it was an easy stick of the crossbow right into his throat. He left all his defenses open for me to run him through.

The next guy came up, snarling at me. But I wanted to give Hans a show, so I did.

I raised my crossbow, then shot him right in the shoulder. He cried out in pain as I then sheathed my crossbow to my back, and raised my sword, and the other hand.

There was always that scar present across my palm. It was the sacrifice that we made as members of the Order. It was what gave us a real edge against out opponents.

" _Thrak foravh avhe powas ro avhe ukavorm, agh charge mausan pros wiavh iav_." I snarled in the infernal tongue as I put my palm to the blade of my sword.

The torches in the room began to sputter out. The shadows around were growing in size around, and both Hans and Alex looked on in terror.

I slid my hand up the blade, cutting open my palm and letting the crimson life onto the blade. Instantly, like gunpowder on the blade, it sparked up, and blue lightning began to run up and down the blade.

The bandit looked up at me, and then pissed himself. That was the last thing he ever did before a lightning charged sword cut his head off.

The last one of them did the only sensible thing that he could think of: he tried to run.

"Hah!" I laughed out loud. I raised my cut hand up, and narrowed my gaze between him and me. " _Savaausan avhere_!"

Red light in the form of runes suddenly appeared on the floorboards where he stood, and he froze. He couldn't move because I made another sacrifice to stop him. Glowing red against the dark mahogany wood, I began to walk slowly to him.

"Please! This is unholy magic you're using!" The bandit cried. "I'm only trying to protect my own people!"

I chuckled as I twirled my sword over my head, the lightning crackling and zapping. "As am I."

I chucked the two heads I had cut off those bandits at the foot of the throne. Hans was stunned.

"Who are you?" He said. "Are you part of the Order? You're a Templar?"

So, they knew about the Order. Maybe that was what Alex was looking at my ring for. "Aye." I replied. "I'm a Hunter for 'em. Those who oppose us, I hunt down and I obliterate."

"And where did you learn those… tricks?" Alex asked.

"They ain't tricks, Highness. And where I learned them is only my own business."

"What you can do is considered to be the work of demons." Hans said, fear resonating through his voice. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't have my guards arrest you right here and now."

I sheathed my sword, the lightning along the blade instantly sputtering out as I did so.

"They can try and arrest me. Many before them have, and all those who did are cavorting amongst the muck and the maggots. But you will need all the help you can get. And some of that help involves fightin' fire with fire." I said, smirked. "You think your throne is secure with your arse polishing it? Those bandits are only the overture to the symphony of chaos that will follow. You're an outsider to this kingdom. As am I. And I offer you my services." I bowed. "In return for a favor."

"What sort of favor?"

"The kind of favor that will be of no loss or gain to you in the future, I promise you that. Should you accept my services, I will ask it of you when I wish it."

Hans glared down at me, then at Alex.

"He seems legit, little brother." He said.

"You will address me as Your Majesty." Hans snapped. Then he glanced back at me. "Granted. As a reward for dispatching these bandits, is there anything you require of me right now?"

"Aye." I replied. "There was a group of guards at the gate to the city. Gave me quite a bit of trouble on my way in. South western gate around one o'clock."

Hans understood, and grinned. "I'll see they're brought to you."

* * *

Hans spoke with his men about arranging a proper meeting with me later that day. I was led to a guest bedroom that was told would be mine for the time being, while Drucilla and my carriage were brought around to the stables.

I resumed my reading of the book that I had been working on as I was making my way into the village. While Volo was a drunken slob, his information was known to be rich, and quite extensive. Unfortunately, nothing that he had wrote on hags wasn't anything I knew already. It was bloody useless for someone of my occupation.

Nevetheless, I kept reading through. One day I would have the chance to do what that fool had done, and share the real knowledge of the beautiful monsters. Truly, the most dangerous of witches were the ones who appeared to be young and beautiful. That was something I had learned the hard way in the recent months.

A knock came at the door, to which I smirked as I looked up, and headed over to open.

"Aye." I greeted as I opened the door.

It was the guard who stood before me. The one who had given me a hard time for trying to enter the city.

"Lord Thayer." He bowed his head. "King Hans sent me by his own personal order to greet you to Arendelle. And to apologize for my behaviour at the gate."

I shook my head carelessly. "Ah, it's no problem, sir." I said. But as I said so, the candles that lit the hallway behind the guard began to sputter out. Shadows around me began to grow larger and darker.

"But mark my words, if you or any other guard who calls this kingdom your home stands in my way for one more second, you won't be answering to King Hans. You'll be answering to me." I snarled.

The guard coughed, trying hard to hide the terror that filled his face. "Aye, milord." He replied. "I apologize."

I wrinkled my nose as a foul scent began to rise from the air around the guard.

"Is there anything else?" I asked.

"Indeed." He said, straightening up. "His Grace, King Hans requests your presence in his study. This way, Milord."

The guard led me down, a strange bit of a look in his step. It was clear now that he was doing all that he could to avoid letting anyone know of the accident that he had. We passed a few guards on our way over, only a few gave a second glance to us. But they were actually looking to me, still trying to understand what kind of monster the king had let into his domain.

The halls were long and dark, windows looking out into the fjord this castle was built on. Quite a defensive feat; putting the castle here ensured that attackers would only be able to come from the sea, not the land. And even with that in mind, it looked like such an attack would be impossible. A line of no less than two dozen frigates lined the entrance to the fjord. Everything that Hans had pinned down to claim, he clearly wanted to do whatever it took to keep it in his hands.

The guard led me to the last door at the end of the hall.

"He's expecting you." He said. "Go right in.

I gave a brief nod, and then opened the door.

His royal majesty had his back to me, standing behind a desk in front of a blazing hearth. He was looking up at a sword which hung on the mantle.

"Lord Thayer?" He asked. "Do you care much for the legacies of other families?"

I kept walking up from the door, hovering on that question. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

"When a neighbouring household is in disarray, do you knock on its door, and tell its master that he should bring order to it? Even if it is not your home?"

I shrugged a shoulder but said nothing.

"King Agdar left a legacy. Thirty-five years ago, he and his wife Queen Gerda perished at sea. He left everything in the hands of two girls who had never seen the world outside their own castle. Two years into Queen Elsa's reign, and she had disobedient subjects, and bandits ruling the wilds. Everything ran like clockwork with King Agdar because he knew how to command respect. He took the head of the Assassin Mentor Daniel Swortssen with this sword."

He spoke of that name as though I should know who that was.

"Scoundrel." I said, not knowing if I was talking about the Assassin or the King.

Hans chuckled, turning. "Indeed. His brotherhood of cutthroats brought nothing but chaos to this land, and Elsa let Swortssen's bastard son into her inner circle as the Spymaster. All these traitors let in behind the safest walls in the realm, and all because Elsa was too foolish to see her real enemies." Hans reached up, barely brushing his fingers against the handle of the greatsword. "Her father left behind a legacy. One of order and justice. And since she could not live up to such a legacy, I must do everything that I can to ensure Arendelle sees the same order and peace for the next millennia."

He turned to me. "And what brings you to such a far corner of the world? I have never heard of your family. The House of Dupree?"

"We're an old house." I said. "But one that is very far from here, yes. I am the youngest son on the family. Two older brothers, one older sister."

Hans scowled. "I see. You must live in their shadow every day, I presume?"

Images of severed heads and blood pooling in cobbled hallways flashed in my mind.

"Every minute." I replied. "But we are not here to talk about family. We are here to talk abut a potential alliance. And I am certain that we can help each other."

"What do you have that you can offer me?" He asked, taking his gloves off. "And what can I offer you that you need?"

"You need a loyal advisor. And one with particular skills that your inner circle clearly appears to be lackin' in. Hunting, information gathering, and interrogation for a start."

"Interrogation and torture isn't something I lack in." Hans said, his voice raising. He was feeling attacked because of some basic statements I made. Clearly with a big chip on his shoulder.

"I mean no disrespect, Your Majesty." I said. "But I have only just seen your household for one day. I've seen average guards, butlers, and maids. Who do you have on immediate retainer to deal with pests or prisoners? And I do mean _immediate_."

Hans opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it again. "None." He admitted. "A brother of mine is an expert in extracting information from our enemies."

"But he is in the Southern Isles, correct?" I pointed out. "And perhaps he is a good torturer, but can he track people the way that I can? That is something I highly doubt. Only myself and those I work for know how to track."

Hans knitted his hands together. "Yes, Alex told me. Show me." He beckoned for me to hold out my hands. I did so, showing my rings.

I had four of them, two on each index and middle finger. My left hand had my Dupree signet ring. It wouldn't do me much good in this corner of the world, but I kept in on all the same. The second was a ring in the shape of a gear. If anyone else could touch it, chaos would ensue. This ring was only safe in my hands. On my other hand, a simple gold ring of similar power, and-

Hans was only focused on the silver ring with the red cross. He eyed with with interest.

"So. You are a member of the Order." He said.

I was a bit confused. "Aye." I said. "Have been for years."

"Then I can trust you, Lord Thayer?" He asked. "As a member of the Knights' Templar?"

I didn't expect to find others of our Order so far from home. Hans didn't even seem the type to do the dirty work we were involved with.

"Aye, sir." I replied, no hesitation in my voice.

"And in return for your service, you expect…?"

"I'm looking for someone." I said. "Been looking for him much longer than I've been in the Order, actually. He's a slippery snake, and maybe someone with your resources and finances can help me. I am the best hunter I know, but even the best know when to admit that they need help."

"One man, eh?" Hans said. "What is his name?"

"Let me work for you for the time being, before I ask you of any favors."

He smirked. "A man of work first, rewards later. I admire that."

Hans was desperate for friends. He thought that what I really wanted was to be one, when in reality I didn't tell him who I was hunting for fear that it would give him some sort of advantage over me. After all, Marden had led me here for a reason. He knew I would go here for a reason. So he knew I was coming. The less people knew who I was looking for, the better.

"I think we will be working very nicely together, Lord Thayer." Hans said. "And as it happens, there's a situation I must attend to this evening that I might need your help with."

"Understood, sir." I replied. "Will that be all?"

He shook his head. "Yes, that will be all. I'll have you summoned when we are ready to go out to the place."

* * *

I pulled back on my crossbow's handle as we walked to the door. Hans had specifically requested that I arm myself for this job, yet I saw no reason why as we made our way up the steps.

"What exactly am I doing here, Your Majesty?" I asked as I looked about. The hovel was nothing impressive. We had gone to a small cluster of homes a little ways down the coast from Arendelle's main town. It took us an hour, with myself and Drucilla trailing in tow. I could have simply ridden her down on her own, but I would not let the carriage out of my reach, knowing the kind of dangerous artifacts inside. It took us most of the rest of the day to reach this home, and it was after dark by the time we reached it.

"Assurance." Hans replied. "I need this family to cooperate with me, and they are more than capable of doing so. If they don't, then we have discord, and that is something that I will not tolerate if I am to honor this kingdom."

I rolled my eyes, feeling the scarred one burn as I did so. "Aye, sir."

Hans nodded, and knocked on the door as one of Hans' higher ranking soldiers walked up, beginning to pull his sword.

"That won't be necessary, Macnair." Hans said, raising his hand. "Not just yet."

The door opened, and a closely shaven bearded face appeared in the doorway.

"Your Majesty." He gasped, opening the door further."

"Evening, Jonas." Hans paused. "You are Mister Jonas Ottosson of this household, are you not?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." He said, still breathless with surprise at Hans' appearance. "Please, come in."

Hans beckoned me and Commander Macnair to follow him inside, along with the clerk he had requested.

The parlor was filled with a number of squashy chairs and sofas. Hans sat in a large chair opposite Jonas, while I remained standing near the door. Macnair and the clerk sat in a sofa nearby. When Hans noticed where I stood, he snapped his gloved hand, beckoning me to move. We didn't want to corner this rat, whatever his crimes were to the royal prick.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Your Majesty?" Jonas asked.

I glanced up at the mantle above the blazing fireplace, where a number of instruments were laid out. I knew the name of a few of them, but cared not to name them.

"There are many things to discuss, Mister Ottosson. I believe in knowing one's neighbours when you have become a new member of the community, would you say the same?"

"Certainly." Jonas said. He looked like he was beginning to relax, but I knew that if I had told Hans of my skills earlier this very day, he wouldn't have had me come out here unless it was for actions of a less pleasant sort.

"Please tell me of yourself. What sort of business are you in?" Hans said, smiling.

"Of course." He glanced at me and Macnair. "Would you and your men care for some wine?"

"I wouldn't say no to a cup." Hans said, smiling.

"As would I." Macnair agreed.

I narrowed my eyes. "Water for me, thank ye'." I said. "I never partake."

"Of course." Jonas said. He clapped his hands. "Matteus!"

A boy a few years younger than me peeked his head into the parlour from a side room. "Yes, Father?"

"Please fetch His Majesty and his men wine and water." Jonas said, a forced sort of smile painting his face. He glanced at me, and some part of me was certain that the scar that split my face in half was what really made him uncomfortable.

Without another word, the boy pulled his head back into the kitchen to fetch us our drinks.

"That is a nice-looking boy of yours, Jonas." Hans said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. He's my youngest, nineteen years of age."

"Oh, excellent year." Hans mused. "Is he enjoying his time working on this fine property?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." Jonas replied. "My other two sons take our crops and goods to the town where we sell it, and Matteus and I manage the property while they are away."

"It must be a fine organization. You have a well adjusted family to this land, Jonas."

"We are family, Your Majesty. That means that we must be so much more than a team. And if we are more than a team, then that means everyone must play their part, and do so with more love and care than even a team is capable of."

"You are wise to believe so, Jonas." Hans said, smiling. "I wish I could have achieved such a relationship with my own father and dozen brothers."

He sighed, leaning forward in his seat. He looked as though he was preparing to confess to his priest with his stance.

"You see, it's not with good tidings that I am here, Jonas." Hans said, regret painting his face. But was it genuine? "This fine machine that I and the armies of the Southern Isles have constructed, it costs a lot to maintain. In both blood and gold. And because my father has given me little support of his own power to help me, it falls to me to ensure that all souls of Arendelle pay their fair share in both."

Jonas began to look a little uncomfortable. I was beginning to understand why I was here. Such a simple reason could have been told to me, but Hans had decided not to do so. I naturally assumed the reason why was simple: he didn't trust me to do what would need to be done here and now.

"Everyone in this world has a share to pay. And I am here because you have not done so, at all since we have placed our occupation here."

Jonas stood up. "Please sire! It has been a rough year for the whole lot of us! Especially following the Deep Freeze. You must understand that it's a strange time in our lives for us all."

Hans stared up at Jonas. "Strange enough to ignore three separate letters that were hand-written by myself, requesting that you pay all your taxes a fortnight ago? Thayer."

I nodded, drawing my crossbow over my shoulder, pulling the lever back. The fire in the hearth began to die out, the cold filling the air around us.

"No!" Jonas cried. "Please!"

I pulled a bolt from my quiver beginning to load it in. I felt the corrupted blood within my heart boil at how I found myself taking orders from the prick in the sofa before me, but I had to keep reminding myself what it all meant. I would save countless lives of my own people with Hans' help. I had to do this.

"Now see here, Jonas." Hans said, taking a sip of wine. "Lord Thayer here is a servant of mine who I can order to burn down the entire house and property. But I have a better idea. Simply pay me what you owe me, with interest."

Jonas fell to his knees, desperation filling up his teary eyes. "Yes, sire!" He sobbed. "I'll give you everything that I have! Just don't hurt me, or my family!"

Hans chuckled. "Certainly not." He agreed. "I won't hurt you, your wife, or most of your children. But I can't make any promises about Matteus."

I looked up at Hans, suddenly. My scarred eye flickered as the fire sparked with a shock to match my own.

"Your Majesty…?" Jonas said, similar surprise in his throat.

"You had your chance to pay me, Jonas." Hans said, finishing off the goblet. "So now you owe me everything, plus your son as a token of your loyalty to me."

He waved his hand, and Macnair set off into the house to fetch the boy.

"Your Majesty, please!" Jonas begged. He crawled across the floor to his boots, kneeling down at them, so close that he could be kissing them. "Matteus is my youngest son! He means the world to me! My whole family does!"

Hans glared down at Jonas as he stood up. "I am the youngest son of a very large family, Jonas." He sneered. "And I can assure you from experience that you care little for Matteus as you do your other sons. He will not be a loss in this household."

Macnair returned shortly, his hand clamped hard on the boy's shoulder. I glanced over at them, and then Hans. I holstered my crossbow back across my shoulder, trying hard to picture my hands wrapping hard around the monster's neck once Hans would lead me to him. All in due time.

"I beg of you, King Hans!" Jonas cried. "Take me, instead! Matteus is a good boy, he cares the world for Arendelle, as do we all! Please!"

Hans sighed, then looked over at me. "Lord Thayer? What do you think?"

I glared over at the prick. What I thought, I wanted to say, was that I only signed up for this madness to ensure the peace and stability for my people for the next hundred years. To cleanse my lands of an evil that had plagued it for the better half of a decade. And yet that part of me that had not yet been corrupted by the hellish magics that I had resorted to wished that there was another way than to completely abandon reason for insanity.

"No family should ever be separated." I simply said. "I speak from my own experience."

Hans grinned. "I understand. Yes, I agree." He turned to Macnair. "I changed my mind. Take the whole family."

Macnair laughed, throwing open the door as more guards came into the house, grabbing Jonas by his shirt.

"NOOO!" He screeched. "YOU ROYAL DEMON! WE ARE PROUD CITIZENS OF ARENDELLE AND YOU PARADE AROUND, SNATCHING US UP FOR NOT PAYING YOU! BURN IN THE DEEPEST HELL!"

"You had your chance to appeal to my good nature, Jonas." Hans said, coolly. "But you took advantage of me. And I cannot have any discord in the Perfect Vision that I have in place for Arendelle. My people must know their place in this world."

As did I. I had to keep reminding myself over and over again that this would all be worth it in the end. Under better circumstances, I would have ground Hans' face into the muck, and made him suffer a thousand deaths worth of pain for what he did to these people. A true King did not inflict such cruelty on his subjects.

The thought of breaking the monster's neck helped me look the other way as Jonas and his wife and sons were dragged, kicking and screaming into a prisoner's wagon, ready to be hauled back to the castle city.

"Where will they be taken, Yer Majesty?" I asked.

"Sript, Lord Thayer." Hans said. "All criminals of my domain will be brought there. I will have them on the next ship down within a fortnight. Then they will be free to leave."

He laughed, only confusing me at what he found so amusing. But I shook it off.

I felt my eyes sting as I looked out at the wagons, lining up at the front of the property. Drucilla glanced at the caged wagon, and then at me as Hans and I walked towards his private coach.

"What about their farm, sire?" I asked. "Their friends will be sure to notice that they have been hauled away."

"Certainly." He agreed. "Which is why when they learn the truth, they will cease to be their friends anymore, and their trust in me will be secured." He placed his hand on my shoulder. "You did well back there, Thayer. Jonas and his family will not be the last traitors to my generosity. And I may be in need of your skills for the more troublesome of them before long. This regime that I have started will ensure Arendelle prospers for millennium. And you can be proud that you will play a part in it."

As a lapdog of his, the very idea of it disgusted me. Hans had arrogance that could rival that of the monster that gave me my scar.

"Yes, Yer Majesty." I said.

* * *

Long after we had left the estate to be burned to the ground, I sat in the dim light of a candle at the desk in my chambers. With Hans' permission I moved my own carriage to stables beneath the window of my room, asking that I may do so in case of intruders. Hans, understanding my mistrust in his staff, agreed.

And now I sat, within the candlelight, eyeing the book that I read.

The conscious part of my mind begged me to understand why I took the book from the castle. I had faced monsters in my years, of exile, but I doubted I would ever face another as evil, or as ancient as the monster that gave me my mark.

Why did I take the book from him? It had been some sort of folder of loose diary entries, all bound together. The original cover of the book had been made of a leather I didn't recognize at first. And then, when it finally struck me, I ripped every page from the horrid thing, said a prayer for the one who made the book whole, and worked tirelessly to find someone to replace the cover. Now it's cover was simple, scarlet, and velvet. All made to keep its secrets safe.

He wrote with such arrogance of his unholy deeds. I had been the one to slay him, and yet I still found myself chasing something more elusive than the monsters I hunted: _Why?_

* * *

 _Sergei was done up in his gaudiest uniform, a soldier who had never really served. At least he had refrained from loading it up with assumed honors as had some of the vain fops that were visiting the court. Other lords rewarded their servants with these trinkets, but I held the opinion that such things were to be earned, not given as bribes. The only bauble on Sergei was the Priest's Pendant, which he would have to ceremonially give up just before walking into the chapel._

 _In his chambers, he greeted me with a broad smile and an embrace, and readily accepted the apology I'd prepared for him. How easily the words flowed from me, how happily he lapped them up; yesterday's incident over Tatyana and the jewels was forgiven and forgotten just like that. He still didn't understand._

 _No matter._

 _I went through the motions and said the right things. He babbled back in turn, displaying his nervousness for the approaching event. I watched him and looked hard into my heart, searching for a single vestige of warm feeling for this young man. Nothing. For all the fact that we shared the same blood, he was no different from any other strutting fool I'd ever encountered. No different, except that he was about to marry the one woman I loved, could ever love._

 _"I wish you had someone like Tatyana," he enthused at me._

Oh, but I will. __

 _I took out the bundle of fabric. "For the groom, I have a present," I said, handing it to him. "It's magical and quite old. Well suited to the day."_

 _Sergei's constant smile faltered when the red, black, and gold hilt seemed to leap from the wrappings. He went still as stone, gaping at the thing._

 _Yes. Sergei was most definitely a sheep, vulnerable to any wolf who could put on a kindly face._

 _"I see that you recognize it," I said. "The time-honored weapon of a Ba'al Verzi assassin. The sheath is made from human skin, usually from the weapon's first victim. The carvings on the hilt are runes of power."_

 _Had our roles been reversed and Sergei the one offering me such a gift, I'd have had my sword out and been backing toward the nearest door and calling for help._

 _All he could do was stare with blank shock._

 _One should never store a blade in its sheath lest tarnish or rust set in, and this knife had not been out since that night I'd taken it from Illya. But as I removed it now, the blade was as perfect as ever. It gleamed like a mirror in the candlelight and was razor sharp. The runes had their share of preservation magic as well as evil power._

 _"Legend has it that it is bad luck to draw such a dagger unless you can give it blood," I went on._

 _Sergei's lips parted, but plainly he could not think of anything to say. This was something quite outside his limited experience._

 _The Ba'al Verzi._

 _Deception was their greatest weapon. Your oldest friend, your most faithful servant - by the gods, even the mother that bore you could be a Ba'al Verzi._

Even your own brother... _I smiled warmly. "I'm generally not superstitious, but I think this time it's better not to tempt fate. Don't you agree?"_

 _Moving swifter than the eye could follow, swifter than thought, I struck, driving the short blade up under his breastbone and into his heart._

 _No man dies in an instant. For what seemed a very long time, he met my hot joy with a look of hurt astonishment, then slowly, slowly, doubled over, silently falling into my arms. I felt the life thinly cling to him for a few seconds more, and then... it just wasn't there._

* * *

He was a monster. One that would commit one among the most horrid of atrocities. Fratricide driven by lust. The Count, Strahd Von Zarovich, who would murder his own brother to take unholy immortality as a vampire, all to steal the bride of his brother. A soul, mind you, who never once would belong to him. That was the true curse of Strahd. Not to live for ever in darkness as a devil. But to live for ever, chasing a soul that would never belong to him.

The dagger that he used. That was another treasure I stole from his castle. It was now buried in one of the many chests of weapons, treasures and gold that I carried in my carriage. The fools that were now guarding it under Hans' orders from me had no idea that some of these weapons that I had collected had the potential to wipe out populations of kingdoms. But they were all safe in my hands. I trusted no one else to safeguard them.

Something drives me unlike many of my colleagues in the order. Where they would merely kill monsters of darkness, of all kinds, to protect the light of this world, I sought much more. I sought to _understand_ the darkness. Understand what drove souls of the purest light to turn to the darkest of paths. Strahd was driven by a madness of lust for a woman who never gave him her heart, and yet he committed such acts in his own name. _Why?_ This King Hans would weep and give to some of his citizens, and turn his nose up with a hardened heart for another. _Why?_ The monster I sought for these past years turned to forces beyond anyone's comprehension for _power… WHY?_

So many people want to know the _what._ _What_ is this thing, and how can we kill it? I ask that, and another question: _why_ is this thing what it is? Why is it what it is, and how can we stop the next unfortunate soul from turning?


	6. Chapter 6: Asgeir II

Asgeir II

February 1789

I slammed the lid down tightly, flipping the latch shut.

"Six thousand Vytropi for one percent of your profits, Filip." I said. "And not a penny more."

Filip chuckled. "Stolen right from the pockets of one Sir Damien. Good work, Asgeir."

I kept my back to him. Regardless of this being just business, it didn't anger me any less. Filip knew what we needed the money for. And the fact that he was charging so much for so little was outrageous. Even so, he had been under no obligation to help us. We had shown up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, only able to offer Kevan and Keif to work his tavern while we hid here.

I gestured to another chest beside it. "There is the rest of the money he stole from Molrum. See that it goes back to its rightful owners."

"Aye." Filip said. "I don't know how, but I'll do what I can with the hands I have."

I had also pocketed five hundred gold Vytropi. I wasn't proud of it, but we needed to eat, and find a ship willing to take us to Corona once we crossed the border. The closest settlement was three days south from Molrum, and everything needed to be planned out. I still wasn't sure about how we were going to make it up over the damn wall, though.

"The people out on the street have been talking of you guys." Filip said. "Some people have been coming here looking for you. You're doing so much for these people."

"But we still can't stay." I said, turning. "This town will be torn apart by sundown as they look for the culprit who took Damien's life."

As Filip reached for the other box, I slammed my hand down on it.

"Don't forget who this money rightfully belongs to." I snapped. "If I find out that you have kept it from the people of Molrum-"

"I understand." Filip said. "I'll enter a world of pain which I will know no end to, I will die at your hands, yada yada yada."

Filip disgusted me. But I said nothing further. Now it was time to deal with our other problem.

Heading up the stairs, I heard Kristoff and Anna talking quietly.

"We only just got here and now we're running?" I heard him say.

"You don't know Hans like I do, Kristoff." She said. "I mean, you do know him since he tried to kill us a month ago, but you don't know the kind of things that he has tried to do to me and my sister."

"This is not your sister talking though, it's Asgeir. He's taken charge of the whole thing ever since we got here."

"With good reason." I replied. "Of the four of us in this family, I'm the only one who has had to hide in villages, constantly hunted by the kind of people Hans works with."

Kristoff and Anna looked up. Anna still looked very different with her hair dyed black, having to pull it back into a plain ponytail instead of her twin braids.

"This is our home, Asgeir." Kristoff said. "Sven is somewhere out there, and there's plenty of people in this kingdom who would see Elsa sit the throne again."

"And you think those people will willingly charge against Hans' armadas, knowing they'll die?" I shook my head. "Make no mistake Kristoff; I may have killed one of Hans' tax collectors, but we do not have the upper hand here. We need to find the way out of Arendelle, and gather support from the outside where it is safer."

Kristoff scowled, then looked back at Anna. "Just… please." He said, his face softening.

With that, he turned and headed for the room that he shared with her.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"He misses Sven, Asgeir." Anna said, looking up at me. "There's been more priority placed on taking the life of one of Hans' lackeys than finding his best friend."

I understood that. Truthfully, I had looked into finding Sven, but the resources we had on our hands here severely limited what we could find. Wherever Sven was, we would not be able to find him here. And with the Southern Isle troops closing in on us, we needed to be within Corona's borders by dawn tomorrow.

Everyone was already waiting for me when I came in, taking my seat at the head of the table.

"Mission was a success." I said. "Sir Damien is gone, and before long Hans will receive the news that one of his clerks is dead."

There were a few whoops and raps of victory on the table. Zar and Terej remained ever fixed on me as I continued.

"But we need to act even quicker, now." I said. "We have less than twenty-four hours to escape this town and get through the border into Corona. So I ask you now, with everything that we have done for this community, everything that we know about it, what can we do to cross it?"

Zar took out a writing board with a list that he had been taking down.

"First thing that we had been discussing was climbing the wall."

"No good." Matthew replied. "The wall is under complete surveillance around the clock, and there's a good hundred yards of well lit fields on the other side."

"There were no authorized ships booked to leave Molrum for Corona tonight, too." Zar continued. "We could have made a deal with the captain of any ship had there been a planned shipment tonight."

"Also, no good." Matthew explained. "Every shipment that leaves town is opened and inspected by the border guards. They've caught a few Sprinters and had them executed."

Matthew shooting down these ideas was what I wanted. We needed a plan to get past the wall, and it needed to be foolproof. Perfection is a hard standard to set and live up to, but that was what we needed with the army closing in on us. I had no doubt they were already tearing the entire town apart looking for us.

Going through the wall would be no good. Guards would be stationed at every corner inside the fortress that held the wall. Guards that knew the patrols and knew how to spot people trying to sneak past, especially close to a dozen people.

Tunneling under would take ages to accomplish, especially because the wall went at least thirty feet deep into the ground. Hans and his troops had been working tirelessly to either keep Arendellians in, or keep Coronians out. Most likely both.

Zar listed plan after plan that we could try, all sounding more and more likely to fail. My heart was beginning to sink as I began to think that after all of this effort to stop Hans, we had drawn the short straw and were trapped in the worst possible place imaginable from right out of the gate. Damien had been killed for nothing, and the Southern Isles were going to find us by sundown.

Zar was almost at the bottom of his list when Anna suddenly shrieked.

"Oh! OH! OH, OH, OH! Elsa, Elsa! This is just like when we were little, and we talked about sneaking out of the castle to live in the forest for a week! Remember that one idea I had?"

I glimpsed over at Elsa, who gently smiled at her.

"Anna, you've had more ideas than the castle has salad plates." She said.

"It was the one to sneak across the fjord!"

Elsa chuckled. "Again, that's doesn't exactly narrow it down."

"The igloo one, Elsa!" She said. "Going across the fjord in a floating igloo!"

Matthew looked at Anna with uncertainty, but Elsa knew to shoot this misguided idea down gently.

"Anna, I think that a hut made of ice drifting through the bay would draw a lot of attention, especially with the buoys lighting the whole place up as they do."

Anna was about to protest, when then she lowered her voice. "Oh… oh, okay… Yeah… I guess an igloo would be pretty obvious." She said. "Just like all those icebergs, those things are _everywhere_ out in the bay! So boring and yet nobody is taking their boats near them." She suddenly stopped, looking around the table. "What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

Dear gods… that might do it. I ran to the window, looking out at the bay. From beyond, I could indeed see plenty of icebergs floating throughout the bay.

"Who was doing recon at the water?" I asked.

"I was, Mentor." Torren replied.

"What did you see?"

"An opportunity." He said, realizing what Anna was suggesting. "A rowboat would easily be spotted in the harbor, but if we were to find a way to move the icebergs with us in them…"

"Elsa, could you somehow make icebergs like the ones out in the bay?" I asked.

She chuckled. "I can do it quicker than the wind blows."

I smirked. "Good. Then I suggest we group up. Two to an iceberg, and we'll find a way south to Corona."

I got up from my seat, walked right over to Anna, and gave her a loud kiss on her forehead. "You brilliant rogue! There's a genius in you yet, Anna!"

She smiled awkwardly over at her sister. "Hey, you hear that Elsa? I'm a genius, apparently!"

I moved aside some of the objects the cluttered the table as Zar and Rory moved out of the way at their seats. I pointed down at the map.

"The closest town from here is Lunaris, twenty leagues south. We'll have to put plenty of distance past the wall before we can return to shore, and then from there we head to the town, and book passage to Corona.

"Everyone here has three hours to gather up their things. We leave under the cover of darkness. We'll leave at different times from the inn and meet at the docks."

I turned back from the table, glancing up at the portraits that we had put up of all the princes. I'm sure we would be able to send these south when we had the chance.

* * *

Filip let us carry out the plan of leaving at separate times out. Rory and Kevan left first, leaving right at high noon. Something told me that it wouldn't be long before the troops found us there, and if someone had to be caught, we could not afford to be caught as a group. Elsa and I would be taking the same iceberg so that we could lead the other five down with us.

Elsa stayed upstairs away from the prying eyes down in the pub. I had given her back the Clover I had borrowed, but it was still for her safety that she stay from out in the open.

Meanwhile I took back to writing in the journal that I had started last night. Whether this was to be another Codex like Altair's, or simply my life as I would have seen it, I had no idea. All I knew was that everything that would happen had to have a record somehow.

" _We leave Molrum tonight."_ I wrote. " _I fear what will happen as we try to escape this condemned town. Maybe, somehow, by some miracle, we will make it past the border and into the safety of Queen Rapunzel's kingdom. But even then I need to know where we stand when we reach the City of Lanterns._

 _"Matthew tells me that the Master of the Thieves' Guild Corbin is sympathetic to our cause, and has agreed to a meeting to be arranged when we arrive. A formal Admiral of Elsa's, Captain Henrik Brovold is also down there to meet with us. That gives us a start in establishing some contacts and making friends. We need allies before we make another strike against Hans. And we need to do that from the safety of Corona._

 _"Then there's the matter of our missing persons. We still have no idea where Troy, Rabbit, Olaf, or Sven are. Half of them may not be the fighters that we need, but all four of them are family, and we need to start looking for them as well. Corbin might have the contacts we need to find out where the brothers are, and that will help us determine our next move."_

I stopped writing. The doors had opened to show three guards walking into the pub. My breath caught in my throat as they walked in, clearly in a business sort of mood.

"Filip!" One of them called. "Three pints around for us."

Filip gave a quick nod, immediately ditching the patrons he had been serving, and began pouring drinks for the other pricks.

"Oi!" One of them cried out. "We were just getting another round from him!"

The leader smirked back at them. "And you think that you are entitled to drinks more than us? We protect this town from the threats within and without."

The patrons didn't reply, knowing that whatever would follow would only lead to trouble. Angrily, Filip handed them the pints, waiting for them to pay him. They never did. Instead, they decided to make some small talk.

"There's been an unfortunate accident, Filip. Many of us are to be working overtime tonight."

"If this is about the bar fight from last week, I already gave my full apology to the guards who had to get involved." He replied, going back to the paying patrons.

"No, it isn't that." The guard said, taking a swig of his drink. "But my colleagues here think that what happened last night may have involved someone vocally against our occupation."

"Then bring it up with Lord Harding. Why are you coming into my establishment to come bitch about this?"

"The men attacked here in the bar fight were certain that you were hiding enemies of the state. What say you to this?"

"Nothing that can be said to you bastards before a warrant is presented to me."

"Pardon?"

Filip grinned. "A warrant. You know, legal right to seize and search my home?"

"We have every right as members of the Arendelle Occupation." The guard briefly glanced at me, trying to flex his power in here. It wasn't going the way that he was expecting.

"Try again." Filip snapped back. "You stay in here any longer after you finish your pints and I will be sending a letter straight to King Hans about illegal search and seizure. Fuck off and don't come back without a warrant."

Scowling, the guard threw back the rest of his drink, and then spat on the clean bar table right at Filip. "We will."

After the guards had left, Filip turned to me from the bar.

"I look out for my friends. I look out for them in my own ways."

* * *

One hour remained before Elsa and I were to leave for the docks. I decided to make one final errand before finishing up here.

The kindly mother, Maiken, would surely miss us when we left. I needed to leave behind some sort of explanation. I had it all written down just in case that she wasn't there. Personally, I was hoping that she wasn't. I was very bad with the goodbyes.

My hopes were shattered when I saw her by the window of her house as I came to the door and knocked.

Immediately, she came to the door. " _Herr_ Connor!" She cried, hopping out of the way to let me inside.

I smiled kindly, offering an embrace for her, which she took.

"It is good to see you, Maiken. I wanted to stop by and make sure things are still going alright."

"Alright as they can be for the last day." She said, chuckling. "I was actually just heading around the corner to help my brother with his work for the day." She grabbed a day bag that she had packed up. "But what can I do for you before I leave?"

"It's a simple matter of notice, Maiken." I said, bowing my head. "My friends and I have worked hard in this town to make it better, but pressing matters are forcing our hands. We have to leave town."

Maiken looked confused. "How? King Hans has locked this town tighter than ever before possible. And even if you could leave, why are you leaving?"

"They are pressing matters that I cannot tell you of." I explained. "But you and your family still deserve to know that we are leaving to attend to the other matters."

"But… _Herr_ Cormac, we need you in this community. The help that you and your friends have given us in the last month is indispensable. People are already starting to feel some fraction of hope from the torturous regime His Majesty has inflicted on us."

"That hope does not come from without, Maiken." I explained, kindly. "It comes from within. Much of what we feel, what we can experience, it all can be drawn from deep inside us. My friends have led by example in this community. We have shown you that this community can be brought back with the right hands, but it will fall to people like you to keep it together."

"I… I don't know if we are even capable of such a task."

"You are." I said. "If I can, I see no reason why you can't along with the rest of this town." I nodded to the door. "They will try to take the hope from every one of you. They are outsiders who believe that they own this land so long as their king has his royal arse stapled to a throne that never belonged to him. All I ask is that you remain strong, and stead fast in the face of this enemy."

She sighed. "I will do what I can, _Herr_ Cormac. And I will see that the same will be done for everyone of this town."

I smiled. "And I ask nothing more from you."

I held out my letter. "In case you need my words of encouragement."

Tears began to swell in Maiken's eyes. She looked up at me, and nodded.

" _Takk skal du ha, Herr_ Cormac." She sighed.

* * *

The sun was setting below the waves. Elsa and I sat inside an abandoned market stall near the docks. The shop owner was a friend of Filip's, and agreed to let two of his friends spend the night in here for some extra Vytropi. I had slipped five onto his counter as Elsa and I sat underneath it, waiting for our chance.

The evening glow of the sun reflected on the wall in front of us. We could still see the orange glow of the day, which we waited for, wordlessly.

With Matthew's help, we mapped out where the dozen of us would wait. Molrum was a town built like a long line along the shores of Arendelle and Corona's border. In pairs, we would wait in market stalls, alleyways and other places for the sun to set. Elsa and I were waiting in the furthest point North in the town. It had been a cold night coming, deep ice forming along the docks. Guards and other maintenance workers had already chipped plenty of newly formed icebergs off the edges of the docks, so we had plenty of cover. Nevertheless, we knew the danger of this mission had not changed, and that we needed to act quickly, but precisely.

Elsa now wore the Clover around her neck, her appearance significantly changed. Her hair was a darker blonde, and her eyes had turned hazel. She looked over anxiously as I peeked over the counter.

The counter faced right towards the water, where I could see the sun still sinking below the waves. Minutes would remain before we would have to get going. However, what stood in our way was around four or five guards within the vicinity of our spot. Two were down by the docks, very close by to the patches of ice we would be jumping down to get to our iceberg.

"Shit…" I whispered. "Come on, we're almost out of time! Get out of here!"

"Should we gather for whiskey and cigars later?" One guard then asked.

"Chances are very good." His friend shot back.

I swore again under my breath. I could give less of a shit about their whiskey and cigars unless they were off to go get them right now.

The sun was inching closer and closer towards the water. Already I could feel the increased presence of guards tonight due to the enactment of curfew. And the fact that they believed Sir Damien had been killed on his own ship didn't help our odds. It didn't even feel like the guard presence had changed dramatically, and yet I knew that it had. There was likely a guard on the rooftop, too.

At last, the sun disappeared from view, dusk finally turning to night. I felt my heart hammering in my chest, warmer than it had been for the last thirty years. The guards were not moving, and I could also see that the buoys were keeping the bay lit up. We would be able to jump down to the edge of the water below the dock for a few minutes of darkness before we would have to start rowing the iceberg out.

Elsa told me she had a plan for how the icebergs would shield us from being spotted. We just had to be as patient as we could. Patience was not a luxury that we could exactly afford, though.

"OI! FUCK CUNTS!" I suddenly heard. "COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!"

The guards suddenly spun around, confused and looking very surprised and angry. From the stand I could see Kevan running up the docks.

He had a tin whistle out, and began blowing into it a loud piercing sound enough to wake up the whole kingdom. Elsa and I looked over, also confused.

Kevan began singing loudly, holding his middle fingers up high for the guards to see.

" _I was born in a Dublin street, where the loyal drums did beat/ And those bloody English boots, they walked all over us/ And each every night, when me Da would come home tight/ he invite the neighbours out with this chorus!"_

I knew the song he was singing, and I think I knew what Kevan was doing. Every guard at the dock was now solely focused on him as he ran around in circle, yelling at every guard to go fuck themselves in between every verse.

" _Come out you black and tans, come out and fight me like a man/ Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders/ Tell 'em how the IRA made you run like hell away/ From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra!"_

The guards closest to the market stall also didn't notice us. Elsa and I anxiously checked to see that the coast towards the water was clear. The guards on the dock who would have had a clear view of us trying to book it to the water began to walk back inland, pulling out their swords and stomping towards Kevan, still singing at the top of his lungs.

" _Come let me hear you tell how you slandered great Parnell/ When you thought him well and truly persecuted/ where are the sneers and jeers that you bravely let us hear/ when our heroes of sixteen were executed."_

The guards were now advancing on Kevan. We had to bolt for it. Elsa looking up at me to tell her what to do, I beckoned her to come with me. Quickly, I charged out into the street.

I looked behind me, seeing two guards on the roof behind us. Both of them were walking in Kevan's direction, looking down at him instead of us. Every guard was now completely distracted by Kevan's singing, so we took the chance. Elsa and I both jumped down off the dock, down to the patch of thick ice ten feet below.

It was right after the jump that I realized this was probably a bad idea. I had no idea how thick the ice was, or even if it would support both our weight. Elsa noticed the fear in my eyes in midair, and she immediately waved her hands down, thickening the ice below us.

We both landed, giving the ice a big crack. Elsa didn't miss a beat, holding her hand down to stop the ice from breaking any further. Kevan was now above us on the street, still singing out loud. He was making his way through the chorus again, when I suddenly heard slams and grunts.

"You shut your mouth!" One of the guards snapped. "You're under arrest!"

"On what charge?!" Kevan yelled out loud. "I am a citizen of Arendelle!"

Elsa held out her hands, shaping the ice below us into an iceberg big enough for the both of us to fit in. It looked like a big bowl open from the top.

Clambering in, I gesturing to Elsa to close up the top. Someone might see us.

"Not yet." Elsa said, pushing the boat out as we started to drift away from the docks. She wanted to see where this went.

Kevan was surrounded by four guards, all with their attention completely on him. As was the whole block. Windows were flung open from all around, citizens in their night clothes holding candles out into the cold winter air to look at the commotion outside. Kevan was now sporting a bloody nose, glaring up at the guards that held him down.

"Disturbing the peace, singing about our downfall. I don't even know who Flanders is, but I swear if you tell me one more time to fight you like a man, I'll squash you into the muck like a rat instead."

"You aren't wanted or needed here! I have had enough!" Kevan snarled. "I am a citizen of Arendelle fed up with you fuckers!"

"Not anymore." The guard smacked Kevan upside the head with the hilt of his sword, knocking him out.

Elsa gasped, raising her hands. The guards looked up at the windows and began to yell up at them to go back inside, which they did with no protest. They had already seen what had happened to one guy who decided to run up and down the streets, singing his head off. Kevan was now being dragged away by the guards, slumped over and covered in blood and mud.

I held Elsa's hands down. "Don't."

"We have to help him, Asgeir!" She said.

"We can't. He knew what he was doing."

"How can you be sure?" She said, beginning to seal the iceberg around us with reluctance.

"Because he wears the hood same as me."

Elsa was able to push the iceberg with her magic with ease. But we had to be careful. From inside the iceberg, the ships and lights that filled the bay were everywhere. If we moved too fast, the guards might spot us. Too slow, and we would never reach the border in time.

From the bottom of the docks, the rest of our group were gathered in pairs along the length of the town. Elsa opened a small hole in the side of our iceberg, carefully using her magic to form more for the rest of us to hide inside. Moving the icebergs would be a challenge for the rest of us, since it seemed that Elsa would only be able to do so much to keep moving them. She could control the ice that we hid inside, but she could do nothing to move the water on the outside of our hiding spots. If she did, the troops on the ships would certainly notice the ice that formed around.

It was tense and uneasy. I spent quite a bit of time in the bay struggling to see outside through the foggy ice. The lights that came from the buoys only did more to blind us in every direction, and at my own suggestion, Elsa only made one hole in our iceberg; the one that she was peering through to make sure we were heading in the right direction.

Soon enough we were coming up on the wall. This was where the bay had been lit up the brightest. More and more patches of ice had formed, giving a natural barrier against the wall that was still being worked on as we spoke. Elsa looked out the hole with a sense of dread.

"I can see the guards." She whispered. "They're looking straight at our icebergs."

I turned over at her, rubbing my hands desperately. I was beginning to feel the ice get to me. "What are they doing?"

"They're only looking at us. There's a lot of icebergs around us."

"Don't do anything just yet." I ordered. "See what they do."

Elsa instead backed away, letting me take the porthole.

I moved slowly up to the hole. It was open within at least two feet of solid ice. Anyone looking from the outside into this iceberg would likely only see darkness, or whatever they were thinking of at the time. The troops standing on a setoff scaffolding precariously perched over the water by the wall were merely looking out at the water, not at the field of icebergs that was slowly drifting past the walls, in between the massive Man O' War anchored close to the wall to stop swimmers.

The gap between the wall and the ship was big enough for the whole lot of us to squeeze through, but we had to take it slowly. Elsa started by guiding our iceberg between the gap first. I could hear the creak of the ship, waves lapping against the surface of our makeshift boat. There was a sudden lurch, and I could hear mild cracking inside, nearly pissing myself with fear. The ship was drifting right up against our iceberg, crushing and cracking it open.

"Don't worry." Elsa said, keeping a queenly hold on the situation. She held her hand down against the floor of the boat, restoring the cracks in the ice.

We kept floating, now coming around the corner, out of sight of the guards. Elsa opened another hole to let me keep watch from the other side, where all I could see out of our starboard side was the figurehead of the Man O' War, a kraken.

Another iceberg followed us as we drifted down. Anna was a genius to think of this idea. There was more ice in the bay than any reasonable person would have expected. It was amazing, because no one else was watching us. More ice was drifting down as we kept going.

Elsa drifted the rest of the icebergs towards us. Rory was on his own since Kevan had provided the distraction. From the gap between the ship and the wall, five more icebergs floated down, dozens of troops all around us, and not a single one of them aware that there were fugitives escaping their clutches. They were so close to finding the culprit of Sir Damien's murder, and we vanished like the wind in their fingers.

But then came the trouble. As one of the last icebergs drifted between the ship and the wall, it suddenly became pressed between the two. And then it cracked. And then it broke right open. Red and Keif suddenly fell right out of the iceberg and into the ice cold water below.

Elsa and I both nearly screamed, both of us clamping our hands to our mouths. Red and Keif had made no noise as they fell out, whether to prevent the troops from realizing what was happening, or simply out of pure shock. But the look in Elsa's eyes told me all I needed to know.

"We have to save them!" She cried in a hushed voice.

I didn't say anything, only nodding as Elsa brought her hands down onto the floor of the iceberg below us.

The floor gave way, and the both of us fell in.

It takes a moment for the human body to register extreme temperatures. This can mean that sometimes a human feels boiling hot water, and it feels freezing for only a split second. In that split second, the water felt like the nicest bath that I had ever felt, when suddenly I was feeling a searing sort of cold in all directions around me. My simple villager clothes were weighing right down on me in the cold, and I could see Elsa looking desperately for Red and Keif.

In the light of the buoys in the bay, we spotted them a good distance away, both of them unconscious and beginning to sink. The two of us swam forwards in terror, hoping that if there was some sort of forgiving god, they would spare the lives of two people who followed my insane leadership past an impenetrable wall.

Everything was becoming colder and darker. I could barely see, and I could barely even feel anymore. I was numb to my bones, and colder than any human could survive. Hypothermia would be setting in by the time I surfaced, and we would be greeted by the presence of guards who would hear us, and call for our heads. But there was something that kept me going. I could hear my own heart beat with my head beneath the waves. Everything that told me what I needed to know: I was still alive. And I knew why.

The night when I killed Ingrid, I had had a vision of sorts. The sight that told me something that I alone knew. Whatever spark that was held within Elsa, whatever magic that her soul was infused with, something similar was found within me. But it did not manifest in the same way that it did with her. It was how I had survived the last thirty years with the Shards of Shattered Sight in my eyes, and my heart full of ice.

I still felt the cold. I still felt it as though it was one of the worst feelings I had ever felt in my unnaturally extended life. All trying desperately not to let in the tormenting voices that I had felt for years. And then I remembered that they weren't there anymore.

Elsa grabbed Red by the hood. Keif was sinking lower and lower, his peg leg not helping him out in how he needed to get taken out of the water as soon as we possibly could. I grabbed him by the neck with my arms around his shoulders. Elsa formed another iceberg around us, and soon we shot back up to the surface.

Keif and Red began to cough, but I slammed my arms over their mouths as Elsa drained the water out of the iceberg.

"Hey!"

I held my breath as I turned my head to the voice. It was one of the guards, likely on the deck of the ship.

"What is it?" another voice asked.

"… nothing. Just thought it was something else. It's just all this ice."

"Yeah, it's a cold one this winter." His friend said.

I sighed briefly as I let my arms off Keif and Red. They both covered their mouths with their soaking clothes, and coughed as quietly as they could.

"What happened?" Elsa asked.

"We got caught in the ship's bow." Keif said. "It broke the ice apart."

Red held Elsa tightly, to her great confusion.

"If you're looking for a warm body to bring you back up, she's probably not the best choice." I said, snidely. But I did it with a bit of a grin on my face. I missed the chance to really make any sort of fun with my siblings.

Elsa glanced over at me uneasily, as Red huddled under her hood, trying to bring her body temperature back up.

"What the hell was that down there? I've never seen anyone else swim in cold water like that."

I looked out the porthole, then beckoned Elsa to follow.

"We're going to need to put plenty of distance between us and the wall before we reach the shoreline." I said.

Elsa rolled her eyes, peering back out the porthole and guiding the other icebergs our way. We were now clear of the wall, but still far from getting out of their clutches.

The rest of the trip downwards remained uneventful for the rest of us. Every other iceberg made it safely across the bay, in between the ship and the wall.

Keif turned to me, propping his peg leg up.

"What happened to Kevan?" He asked.

"He started running down the docks, singing at the top of his lungs." Elsa explained. "The guards came running for him and pounded him hard."

Keif chuckled, looking down at his leg as I stared at him.

"What is it?"

"He believes in what we stand for. Surely, any Assassin would, but Kevan knew that the only way for us to stand a real chance of passing the border was to create a distraction. How many guards were stationed at your part of the docks?"

"At least four, I would say." I replied. "And that's not counting the guards that were on the roof of the building we were hiding in."

"What'll happen to him?" Elsa said.

"That I'm not sure of." Keif said. "I'm sure Kevan gave the guards no probable cause to shoot him?"

"He gave a few yells at them and told them he was a citizen of Arendelle, but short of that, nothing." I said.

Elsa looked back out the porthole. From beyond, we were about thirty feet away from the shoreline. Hundreds of fallen trees were stacked against the wall, paving the way for the Hundred Yard Dash, the point after the wall that the citizens of Molrum had talked about. Something that they were sure none of them would live to see. And now we were seeing it, skimming along the shoreline south. We were past the border, inside the safety of Corona.

"Kevan believes in you, Asgeir." Keif said. "As do I."

I turned back to him. "I've taken too many souls. Their names and their faces will haunt me for the rest of my life."

"But you took only one life last night, and not another drop spilled." The old man laughed. "Not even Ezio could truly brag of such a feat. And that playboy would be impressed, I can promise you that."

Red was still shivering under her hood, but gave me a reassuring smile in between her shivers. Elsa huddled closer to her, throwing her damp cloak over the both of them.

"Why aren't you cold?" I asked Keif.

In truth, Keif was shivering, but not nearly as badly as Red. "Heh, I've gone through hell before. Lost my leg to the Templars, had frostbite in several places. Oh, and I've burned meself in more places than you can count at the forge."

That reminded me. "Speaking of the forge, there's a few things that I was hoping you and I could talk over."

"I already told you Asgeir, those rope blades are my first priority when we find a place in Corona."

I shook my head. Elsa and Red were now talking amongst themselves as Elsa guided the icebergs outside.

"No, it's not that. It's about my own weapons."

Keif sat up straight with interest. "Having some ideas for your arsenal?"

"Plenty." I replied. "Mostly involving Shay's rifle and my scythe."

Keif grinned. "Aye, the scythe. I put a lot of work into that, and I'm proud of it. But I never got to finish work on it."

I raised an eyebrow. "You weren't done with it?"

"Not even close. I was always thinking of more things to add to it. For one thing, a hidden blade inside."

I drew the scythe off my belt, and held it out. "How would it work?"

Keif held it up, and then gestured. "What if I were to let the whole thing be taken into two pieces? You'd have one half which would hold the scythe blade, and another with a blade like-"

"The Frye twins' cane swords?" I realized.

Keif smirked. "I still have a few spare blocks of the steel I used to make this. Find me a forge in Corona, and I can set up proper shop. Anything I can do for my Mentor."

* * *

After an hour of drifting slowly south, I broke a hole in the roof of the iceberg. It was time to check if the coast was clear.

"Asgeir…"

"I'll be alright, Elsa." I said, slowly climbing up through the hole I had carved out.

The stars that filled the sky that night were endless. Limitless. The ocean to the east reflected it perfectly like the calmest mirror, and the moon, still high in it's fullness. We had drifted so far that the wall and the fallen trees were nowhere to be seen. I was also seeing that the icebergs we had used were starting to melt. The never ending summer that always existed in Corona was already where we floated.

"We're clear." I said down to Elsa. "Let's get to the shore."

I helped the three of them climb up, and from there, Elsa guided the other icebergs to the shore.

Clambering down, hitting the pebbled beach, I drew my sword out again. Keif and I hacked away at the other icebergs while Elsa used her magic to carve the rest out.

Anna and Kristoff were both shivering uncontrollably when we got them out. Many of us were, but as soon as I told them what had happened to Keif and Red's iceberg, everyone stopped complaining to make sure that they were okay.

Elsa eyed me suspiciously as I did a headcount, and then pulled out my map.

"What happened to you in the water, Asgeir?" She asked.

I looked up from my map. "Don't know what you mean." I lied casually.

"I saw you swim through the ocean that was below freezing. You were down there for at least a half a minute. You're telling me that was standard procedure for an Assassin?"

Anna looked up at me, huddled with her fiancé.

"Is everything alright, Asgeir?"

I cursed under my breath, swearing at myself for not acting more cold than I should have. This family didn't need another secret that had the potential to bring great shame to them. Whatever existed within me may not be as prominent as Elsa's spark, but she clearly noticed something out there.

I needed to really sell it. No one else need know this secret. I looked at Elsa dead in the eye, and made sure my face showed her what she needed to know.

"Ingrid inflicted me with ice in my heart for thirty years. She wanted to drag out my suffering as long as it took for me to satisfy whatever twisted games she had planned with all of us, and now I'm left as broken as humanly possible. I don't know what happened down there, Elsa, and I don't know what else to tell you."

Elsa kept her eyes glued to me, taking off the Clover and returning to her normal form.

Zar spoke up. "Where's Kevan?"  
Rory shook his head. "Mate saw Elsa and Asgeir's position. He knew that they wouldn't be able to make it to the water with them in the way. He left me his stuff and took off."

"Hans' troops have him, now." I said. "We just need to hope that he stays safe and that nothing else can happen past a fine. He only sung loudly."

Elsa looked down at the map in my hands. "So what now?"

I turned back towards the water, turning the map in my hands so it lined up with our surroundings.

"We head inland from here." I said. "We need to try to stay off the main roads, but we follow the road for about a day or two, and we'll reach Lunaris. Passage to Corona will be a cinch from there."

Saying it out loud suddenly brought a huge wave of relief past me. We were the first people of Molrum to make it past the border meant to keep us contained. We had now escaped the reach of Hans and his regime, now within the safety of Rapunzel and her people. Reaching Corona had been the highest priority for weeks, and now we were on our way south. We had done it.


	7. Author's Note

**A/N: The chapters that came were a big delay for a bunch of reasons. Mainly a writer's block. It comes in many forms, and for me, that's simply not knowing how to put to words exactly how things will play out. By my estimation, I know how the next dozen chapters will play out, and how this whole story will end. But all the same, writer's block is an intensely harsh mistress. And it will happen to you if you write at all.**

 **That being said, I have also realized that if you have read this story for years, there's very little you know about myself. That in mind, I want to do a Q+A chapter at some point this holiday season, since it marks four years since we have started Asgeir's story. If you have a question about me, the story, or anything else, please DM it to me or comment, and I will answer it if I can in a special chapter by the end of December.**


	8. Chapter 8: Asgeir III

**A/N: There has been a really good reason for this long wait. After two years of school in my program (radio broadcasting) I finally got a job where I have moved up north. While I won't say where, I can say that the temperature is insane and Arendelle worthy. This morning it's -26C! (-12F). The isolation will at least help me finish the story I've spent these last few years on, and I couldn't be more excited with everything that has happened in my life and with this story. Thanks.**

Begin Sequence 2: City of Lanterns

Chapter 7: Asgeir III

March 1789

Water lapped against the steady docks of the harbour. While the early hours of the morning were just slipping away, the blazing sun rising high above the low rolling hills of the castle of Corona, fishermen bustled around the port, ready to haul their product into the market for the day. While Arendelle was at the peak of winter, leagues north, Corona's coolest days could still let the average worker walk comfortably through the city with shorter sleeves. And standing among the fruit carts and smells of fish laying on the tables in the sun, was me, finally back in my Assassin hood.

"Young sire! Buy a pot! No finer pot in brass or silver!" One merchant said as I passed by.

"Sugar dates! Sugar dates and figs! Sugar dates and _pistachios_!" The next one called.

I smiled as I politely shook my head at them, silently refusing their offers. This was what a market should be. The bustle of life pumping through the city, even with the cool winter air, was exactly how life in a big city should be.

"Fresh fish!" A seller called. "We catch 'em, you buy 'em!"

I smiled. This was how life under any sort of crown should have been. The same kind of market stood in Molrum, but there was unease and dread that filled the hearts of every patron and seller as they had crowded through those alleyways. Rory and Red spent the most times at our stand waiting anxiously for someone to come around and buy some ice in the thick of winter. There were some people, but not that many as there were few luxuries that people could go around buying. Very few people had the spare coin to sling around, but now I was watching bustle like no other.

It had taken us the better part of a week to reach The City of Corona. We spent most of the trip to Lunaris avoiding all the roads, but as we soon learned, that wasn't necessary. We had managed to sneak past the border with not a single guard even aware of what we had done, so everything that followed as we made our way south was nothing threatening. Eventually we headed further inland to the road, and from there we made it to Lunaris.

The captain of the ship we hired didn't say anything, but it was clear to us that he knew where we had come from. It turned out that many in Lunaris were scared by what had happened in Arendelle, many finding guns pointed south and a wall being built four months ago. We had indeed been the first people from Arendelle he had seen since, and eagerly accepted our gold to take us to the city.

It was now the morning after we had arrived. There was an inn we immediately found with the gold we had taken south with us, and afterwards, Matthew had gone to meet with Corbin, leaving me to my own devices.

It was a beautiful day rising over the harbour. Corona was built on the slopes of a seaside mountain, the highest point holding the famous castle where Queen Rapunzel lived.

I continued walking down the docks, passing vendors shouting claims of their goods. Something smelled irresistible, so I eventually caved and bought the skewer of what the man closest to me was selling.

It was greasy, but very tasty, and the man grinned as he watched me eat it.

"This is excellent." I said in between bites. "What is it?" I hadn't bothered to ask.

"It's a specialty of mine I picked up in Vonamount." The vendor told me. "The Southern Isles' second largest city. Take a guess."

"I wouldn't say chicken, then." I replied. Everyone says that everything tastes like chicken.

"No, indeed." He said, still grinning. "What else would you guess?"

It was a bit gummy, so I thought hard. "Duck? Maybe?"

"No." He laughed. "But I have worked with duck before. You should try that."

I took the last few bites, swallowing and licking my fingers. "I give up, then."

The man laughed. "That was a rat skewer you just ate!"

I looked at him dead in the eyes, feeling my insides turn. "You serious?"

"Yes, but it's a very special strain of rat, you see." He laughed. "I raise them myself."

That didn't exactly make me feel much better, but the fact that it tasted so good was something. Plus, it only cost me a single Tryrin.

"Ugh. Thanks." I said, walking off and giving him a wave.

"Come again!"

The sad thing about that was that I might just do that. Even knowing that what I ate was a freaking rat, I had to admit that it was a pretty good rat.

There was a bench around the corner, up against a brick wall as I walked around. Looking down at the seat, I suddenly noticed that there was something drawn on it: a hand pointing.

I grinned. I knew who had done that before in our Order's history, so I had an idea of who had drawn it. I sat down, and waited.

Five minutes later, Matthew came around the corner. He wasn't wearing his hood like me, knowing how suspicious it would look if two people were sitting on the same bench wearing white hoods. He instead was wearing simple roughspun clothes.

"Corbin is waiting for you." Matthew said. "I should warn you that he has more of a drive for gold than to help us, but he sees a lot to gain on both sides for this."

"Thanks." I said, looking down at my feet. "And what about his lackeys? Guildmaster like him should have people close to him."

"That would be Vex and Delvin. They're cautious of outsiders, but I wouldn't spend too much time talking with them. Corbin is who you're here to speak to."

"Where do I go?"

"Second alleyway to the right. Find the diamond."

Matthew got up, and left without another word.

Maybe it was residual paranoia from our month in Molrum, but the little information that Matthew had left me was not that much helpful. He was afraid someone might be listening, and in a city with a Thieves' Guild, that was a chance. All the same, I got up, and headed off to find the entrance.

Everything that happened on the streets had a bustle I wasn't accustomed to. I had been to Corona briefly a few times before, but after less than a day within the city, this was the longest that I had been here. I saw a cart with a window inside it like a modern day ice cream truck, currently stopped and selling some wares to citizens. I passed on alleyway, and then darted down into the next.

It was a narrow alleyway, built so narrow that I might have missed it if I didn't know that it was there. And maybe that was the whole point of it if it was to house the entrance to the Thieves' Guild. Concentrating, I focused my Sight to find the diamond that Matthew was mentioning.

Felix was another person we had hoped to contact down south, but to no avail. He was the Mentor of the Corona Assassins, but ever since I had killed his apprentice Ryan, tensions had blown over with our branches. At my request, Matthew still presented himself as our Mentor when he sent letters to Felix, but there was no response. Now that we were in Corona, we had to make the choice to try to reach out in person, or leave them be.

The diamond I was looking for was right at my feet, about halfway down the alleyway. It was a carving built right into the wall of the alley, clearly meant as a button. A small diamond motif with a circle carved inside it. It reminded me of the locking mechanism found in older Assassin hideouts, with a notch built for a hidden blade to fit in.

"We should bring those back." I muttered to myself as I pressed the lock.

A half circle lid was built around the button lock. It was big enough to fit one person, meaning that I would have to slide down the chute. I looked around the alleyway to make sure no one was watching me, and focused my sight. There were no whispers, so I opened the lid, and slid down.

I hated to think what was making the chute so easy to slide downward. But in no time, I was soon at the bottom of the chute, standing in a wide room, clearly somewhere in Corona's sewer system.

To the other side of the large room, a small door was present. The walkway I had landed on had a small aquaduct on either side, flowing slowly into drains in the direction of the door. Wherever the Thieves' Guild was based, it was clear that this was where Matthew had sent me. I hoped that if they were watching me now, they knew that I had come in peace.

A small sign was placed right beside the door, showing the profile of a leaky flagon of ale, foam pooling around it. This must be the place.

I knocked at the door, to which a small peephole opened. A dark eye stared back at me.

"Password?"

Matthew told it to me in advance.

"Shadowmark." I replied.

The peephole closed, and I heard the slide of a lock, followed by the opening of the door. A bald man with very black eyes gestured me in.

"'ee's waiting for yah." He said in a thick accent. Very Cockney London by the sound.

He wore armor similar to an Assassin. The difference being the color scheme, mainly consisting of browns and blacks. And of his weapons, only a single dagger hung from his belt.

"Follow me, eh?" He beckoned, leading me along the passageway.

Down dark corridors we walked, walking past shelves that were lined with various treasures and trinkets. This was clearly the right place, all meant to look as grubby as possible.

"Can I get yah anyfing to drink, mate?" The bald guy asked as we walked down the hallway.

"Ale, if you got it." I replied. "My name is Asgeir, by the way."

He glanced back. "Aye. We know 'oo yah are. Delvin Mallory."

There wasn't much else to speak yet. I had walked in as an invited guest, but there was still some caution between me and them, knowing that what we had here might work out, or might not.

Delvin led me from the hallways out into a massively round room. From the center of the room stood a large cistern, where light from the outside streamed down along with a few steady streams of water. The part of this room seemed to be the area where a small tavern area had set up shop. A girl with white-blonde hair was sipping away at a flagon of ale, and another man in leather armor was arranging flagons on the shelf behind the bar table.

Delvin walked up to the bar table, knocking hard. "'ey! Corbin! 'ee's 'ere!"

The man turned around, grinning. "Well, then. We can get down to business, I see!"

Where Assassins wore their white hoods dictated by our tradition, Corbin wore a set of leather armor and a hood that served more practical functions. It was almost identical to what Delvin was wearing. His hood was black and covered in dirt, either from living underneath the city for so long, or to serve as actual camouflage, I couldn't say. He had a smug look about his stubbled cheeks as he gestured for me to sit down. He took two flagons, pouring out ale from a large barrel beside him.

"Been looking forward to this, I have." He said, placing the flagon in front of me, and taking a large gulp from another one. "The White Reaper." He said, getting up. "I must say, even with my limited time as guild master, there is none with a reputation quite like yours. I am honored."

He gave a quick bow, and then drew a dagger, fiddling with it as he placed it onto the bar table in front of us.

It then struck me as odd. While Delvin and the other thieves that I spotted on my way in here were only armed with simple daggers at their belts, Corbin was armed to the teeth in comparison. The dagger he had drawn and placed on the table was identical to another one which was sheathed at his chest, and it looked lethal to say the least. It had two blades; One blade curved from the handle like any other dagger would, almost like a small crescent moon. The other blade curved back against the handle of the dagger, almost like a bladed brass knuckle. Corbin put his finger inside the notch between the handle and its blade, and begun to spin the dagger absentmindedly. There was also a small bow he had sheathed to his back.

"Guildmaster Corbin-" I began.

"We keep things informal around here, Asgeir." He said. "Please just call me Corbin."

I sat up a bit straighter. "So, you know my purpose here?"

"I rarely go into business with people without knowing as much as I can about them. We have people in every town from here to the edge of the Everwinter."

"So, you knew about our escape from Molrum?"

"Even if Matthew hadn't told me everything, yes I would have known. Happened only the night before last, and my spies sent me the report this morning."

He got up, circling around as he almost was appearing to size me up. The dagger rattled loudly against the table as it continued to spin.

"You were able to penetrate Lord Harding's manor and kill one man without being spotted. It's quite impressive if I do say so myself."

"It's all to send a message to Hans." I replied.

"A message he likely won't even hear since he thinks you're dead." Corbin smirked. "You Assassins can use that to your advantage."

I felt my heart leap, but Corbin only laughed at the look on my face.

"Relax. I may not be an Assassin, but Matthew got my information from Felix. Thought that we could talk out a deal."

Corbin sat back down. The dagger on his desk was still spinning.

"What did Felix say about us?" I asked.

Corbin grinned. "He knows that I am a gambler of sorts. And the odds he placed on you are shitty to say the least. Whatever I am to bet on you, he reckons I would lose a hundredfold."

I narrowed my eyes up at him. Felix hated me for killing Ryan. I wondered if he knew about my recent inheritance of the mantle of Mentor. I felt the weight of this press down on my chest as my breath tightened.

"Here's the thing, Asgeir." Corbin said. "We deal in very similar, and yet very different businesses. You're in the game of blood. I'm in the game of gold. So if we were to reach some sort of deal, I'd need to know that you'd be playing by my rules."

"Meaning?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"You're looking for finances and friends. I can offer both if you lend me your skills. But you can't kill anyone."

"Why?"

"It's not the business that we deal in. People come to us to have us nick items from people's houses, and to send messages. We deal in pickpocketing, money laundering, book cooking, you name it. Anything that fucks with people's finances, that's us."

Corbin grinned as he pulled the spinning dagger off the table, and sheathed it to his chest. "Not that I'm saying spilling blood doesn't always help us. You realize how much money the Southern Isles will lose when they have one of their chief bookmakers dead? We're talking tens of thousands of Vytropi scattered to the wind. Damien was one of King Hans' smartest men, and now there's only King Elias' men to read books that were only meant for Damien's eyes only."

Corbin pulled out a sheet of parchment from his desk and slipped it to me.

"Maybe it would help you if you saw how Damien wrote his books. Can you read that?"

I couldn't. Maybe with enough time, I could decipher it, but it was a large page full of strange markings that I couldn't read.

"Vex took this from Damien's ship when he visited Corona a few months before the occupation." He explained. "These books were meant for Damien's eyes only, so he encoded them himself to ensure no one else could read them."

"But you can?"

"Code breaking is one of our services. It took a long time for us to work with this sheet, but we finally realized that this one mentioned finances that Damien was keeping hidden for Hans. Secret stashes of treasure throughout the Southern Isles and the Thousand Indies. Whatever Hans was planning, he only trusted Damien to hide the gold for it."

I started to reach for it, but Corbin snatched it back.

"My guys are in the midst of finding more of these pages. This can be part of our deal." He said, placing the sheet back in his desk. "I am the only one who has been able to break these codes, so I am the only one who can lead you to the stashes."

"So, you want me and my guys to find the pages without killing the people holding them, and you'll lead us to the treasure?"

"The Thieves' Guild will find them, regardless." Corbin chuckled. "But if you Assassins want to take the job, I'll call off my guys in exchange for a cut of the treasure."

"How much?" I growled, feeling my teeth grit.

"Calm down, Asgeir." Corbin said. He was a lot more laid back than I was expecting. "I believe in fair deals, so we'll split whatever gold you find with these pages right down the middle. Fifty, fifty. Fair?"

I was surprised. That _was_ fair. Something that I wasn't used to in the last thirty years of dirty dealings.

"Now that we got that out of the way, we can also get to other business. If you have need for coin or just wanna pass the time, you can talk to either Vex or Delvin. They can offer you jobs for coin around here. I'm sure we can trust you as a free agent." He gave a wink that reeked of sarcasm.

"Yeah." I sighed. "Don't have much of a choice, really. Desperate times."

"Good. We need the help, anyways. Is there anything that you need help with while I have you here?"

I nodded. "There is. We're looking for some people. Four of them, actually. Maybe your spies can look out for them."

Corbin grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill. "Names?"

"Troy and Rabbit. They're two brothers of ours. They were wearing white hoods. Rabbit has blonde hair and Troy has spiked brown hair."

He nodded. "And?"

"Olaf and Sven. Snowman and a reindeer."

Corbin looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Say that again?"

"A snowman and a reindeer."

"Are you looking for a partridge in a pear tree while you're at it?"

I shook my head. "I'm serious here, Corbin. They're part of our family and we have no idea where they have gone."

Corbin shrugged, scribbling their names down. I could spot what he was writing upside down. They were a seemingly random string of letters and numbers, which I only assumed must have meant he was encoding whatever he was writing. He did it with impressive speed. I knew a few encryptions, but he was doing it like it was something he was bred for. As a thief, I realized, that was exactly what he was bred for.

"If that is everything, you know the way out. Delvin or Vex might have a job lined up for you if you need the cash. Gods know we need the help, so I trust you know the way out."

I got up, thanking him for his help. Then I walked over to Delvin and Vex for the jobs.

Delvin was a little more chatty than Vex, but anyone would have been more chatty than Vex. He was kind enough knowing that Corbin seemed to trust me.

"Right 'ere I got a job you might want." He said. "Numbers."

"Numbers?"

"Blimey, boy. You call yourself a thief? Never 'eard of cookin' the books?"

"Well, not like that name, I haven't." I shot back.

"Aye." Delvin sighed. "Well, we call 'em numbers jobs. They're quick and easy. All I need you to do is go into the Cracked Horseshoe Smithy, and move their numbers around a bit. Find their business ledger, and write down everything it says 'ere." He handed me the slip. "Oh, and- ahem- _don't get caught_."

"Uh huh." I replied. "How much will this pay us?"

"You'll get your share when the job is done. But only when and if you actually do it. Don't talk to me again until you finish the job."

Recognizing the chilly reception I would get from Vex since Delvin had opted to give me such, I decided to head back out instead. Vex may have had her own work lined up for me, but it appeared to me like I needed to prove my worth to these scoundrels. The Cracked Horseshoe would be found somewhere else in the city. I'd do the job tonight while working out all the other things we needed to figure out. The next order of business was securing a ship to take us south now that we had the chance for gold to come flowing back to us.

The path back out into the streets was just as slimy and filthy as the way in. Everywhere I walked as I tried to figure my way back out into the bright streets, I could only unearth the ungodly scent of shit and whatever other rot lay down here. There was no better place for the Thieves' Guild to place their headquarters, knowing that Rapunzel's guards would never dare venture down here. This sort of place was beneath them both in position, and in geography.

Eventually the scent began to thin out, and the passages I slid through were lightening up and sloping upwards. From there I felt around in the naked darkness for the key slot to insert my blade to open the door.

I came up into another alley like the one I had entered, but I realized when I had returned out into the streets that I had travelled miles from where I had first met Matthew. Now that we had the agreement set up with Corbin, it was time to find him again, and meet up with the Captain that he had spoken with.

I had climbed back up into the streets only a few blocks from the pub we had now taken refuge in. The Jade Feather had an open patio area because of the heat the sun gave this day, opening up their area to a table where I found several of us waiting for me.

Matthew stood by the table, clearly waiting impatiently for me with Anna and Red, who were working their way through steins that I didn't know what they were filled with.

"What are you girls drinking?" I asked, climbing over the little wooden fence that separated the patio from the street.

Anna laughed, then belched. Classy.

"I'm starting to see why you like this stuff, Asgeir." She said.

"Are you-?" I laughed. "Are you drinking more ale?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, smiling. "When I advised against it, she played the 'princess card', Mentor. We are her loyal subjects, after all."

I smirked. "I wouldn't have dared say no to my princess." I agreed. "But let's get back to business."

Anna nodded. "Elsa's staying upstairs with Keif as you requested. Zar and Rory went off to find more work if they could."

"I know they can." I replied with certainty. "They have a knack, and this place is much safer than Molrum. Especially for those working underground…"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Then it was a success?"

I grinned. "Corbin said that our work in Molrum did so much more for them than we could have ever imagined. Damien's absence means that Hans has lost thousands in gold."

"But he has more bankers than just him, right?" Red said.

"Not anyone he trusted as much as Damien." I sniggered. I pulled out the decrypted page. "Corbin is offering a deal for us. He knows all of Damien's cyphers that he used when he wrote his journals. If we find pages that he wrote like these, they may contain the locations of chests that he hid for Hans before he died."

Matthew's eyes widened. "Leaving gold unclaimed and ripe for the picking!"

I unfolded the page, and showed it to Matthew. "Do you know where this is?" I said. "It's been a while since I read nautical coordinates."

Matthew looked down, then shook his head. "I don't know this one either." He raised his head. "But your second meeting might know how: Admiral Brovold."

Anna looked up. "The Admiral?" She asked. "He's down here in Corona?"

Matthew shrugged. "He might be. I don't know."

I raised my hand to Matthew. "Tell her, Matthew. There's no point in keeping her in the dark."

Easily giving up, knowing how much secrets could tear us apart, Matthew pulled up another chair by an empty table and sat down.

"Asgeir doesn't have the contacts I have, since I was Mentor for much longer. Admiral Brovold and I became friends while we had our roots in Arendelle. He's working as a smuggler now down here, trying to hide from Hans same as us."

Anna narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you tell Elsa and me?"

"I wasn't even sure that he would be open to meeting us. We're not exactly rolling in gold, and that's what he's working for now since he thinks that you girls are dead. If I sent a letter telling him that his queen and princess are alive, he would likely think that it's a trap."

"But he knows who is in charge now?" I asked.

Matthew nodded. "He is aware of the shift in power and wants to meet with you to get a feel for you. If things go well with him, he might be willing to let us hire him and his ship."

"He said this to you?" Anna asked.

To this, Matthew looked a bit sheepish. "Well… no. I merely assume that he will once he knows what we are doing."

Red chuckled while Anna leaned back in her chair, looking almost helpless.

"Bad assumption to make about smugglers and pirates, Matthew." I replied. "I'll meet with him, but he only knew me from some of the Small Council meetings in Arendelle."

Anna looked up. "I'm coming with you, too."

I met Anna's gaze, about to protest. But instead of telling her all the things any protector or sibling would, I thought even harder about this idea. And it made sense. I could even remember seeing Brovold a long time ago, the day that Elsa ran away. He had been one of the admirals who had ordered the soldiers to back off when Anna went off to follow her sister. He clearly had some sort of trust with Anna, so it was imperative that we use that trust to our advantage.

I looked at Anna, watching her black hair closely. Even here in Corona, she didn't tie it up into her twin braids, sticking with the single ponytail at my suggestion.

Then I looked up at the inn. "Go get the Clover from Elsa. If you come with me, we'll use it to keep you covered until we know Brovold is on our side."

Anna grinned. "I already did." She said, holding up the chain from her pocket. "You think I didn't expect you to ask me that?"

Matthew and Red stayed seated while Anna and I got up.

"He's waiting for you at the Riley and Sons Tavern. Balding man with glasses."

I remembered. He also always had a smug look about his face, but less arrogant of a look than Hans' smirk.

Anna and I set off, only knowing the direction towards the pub. When the sun was beginning to set along the Bay of Lanterns, we had to ask where the pub was to a passerby. He looked very confused when we did, wondering why we were heading there.

"Head down to the bay. The island across the water is what you're looking for."

He pointed, where I could see a tiny island off in the distance.

Booking a rowboat was difficult, knowing that we didn't have much gold to sling around. Matthew didn't tell me that we needed to take the boat, but some part of me doubted that he even knew where the tavern was in the first place; neither of us had been here more than twice before.

Eventually a shifty looking gentleman said he would accept us lending him our boat if I gave him three gold pieces, one of which we would get back if the boat was still intact. Anna remained silent, now magically disguised by the Clover to look like she had darker skin and eyes to match her dyed hair.

The man kept grinning over at Anna with his yellowing teeth, but I made it clear that we were the ones buying anything here, and if he made any proposition, he would regret it.

From there we headed down to the water, where Anna surprised me.

"Let me row out." She said as I was grabbing the oars.

"Really?" I asked, unsure why she meant it.

"I read about rowing all the time when I was a girl." She said. "Never really got around to trying it, though."

I shrugged, then sat down across from her in the boat while she sat down, getting the oars ready.

"Okay…" She said, looking behind her as she turned the boat to have her backside facing our destination. "Here goes…"

She began to pull the oars, then pushed them forwards, and pulled again. Pushing, pulling pushing…

"Why isn't this working?" She groaned.

I looked down into the water, then chuckled. "We'll get a lot farther if you put them in the water when you stroke."

Anna looked down, then realized her mistake, laughing. She easily corrected it, and then we began to move quickly across the water.

"You read a lot, didn't you?" I said.

"Anything I could get my hands on in the library." She said. "I'm pretty sure I read everything in the library at least three times over."

"I know, Anna. You definitely did."

She looked up, confused for a moment. "You were always watching us, weren't you?" She said.

"You girls are my family. Of course I kept an eye on you."

"If Father found you, he would have killed you!" She said.

"Great risk for great worth." I replied. "No pain, no gain."

Anna grinned. "I like that! It rhymes!" She looked a little grim again. "What happens when we face Hans?"

I shook my head, placing my satchel on my lap and opening it up. "There is not going to be any negotiating. Hans has tried to kill both you and Elsa twice already."

"But what if, Asgeir?" She rowed harder now, kicking up foam from the water.

I sighed. I admired Anna's relentless attitude to try to always see the good in the world, no matter what she had gone through. May she never truly find out the kind of things that I did in my exile.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, Anna." I finally said. "No point in planning for something that may not even happen."

As we rowed closer to the water, the smell hit me. Anna grimaced as it hit her sinuses too, stopping the boat briefly as I stood up.

Rum, salt, and puke. That was what I could discern from the smells as we had gotten to a much closer distance of this island. It wasn't that much far out from Corona, and yet it felt like we had gone hundreds of leagues into a new world. It was a world that I was well familiar with, though not of this one particular island: pirates.

A half sunken brig was the scarecrow of the entrance to this port. From there we could see dozens of patrons attending what looked to be a tavern built right into it's shell. But as we got closer it became clear to me that nearly every building in this small island was a tavern. It was all some sort of endless stag party as far as the eye could see. I had heard of a sanctuary like this hundreds of miles south from here, deep within the Thousand Indies, but even I hadn't dared to find the Port of Tor-

"Asgeir…?" Anna said, almost with a bit of a whine in her throat.

She was trying to get my attention. Because we had gotten the attention of nearly the entire bay now. It had started with the people on the beach by the bonfires, and then the people on the decks. But now the entire island had grown still and silent to watch us floating, right in the middle of the small cove that this island carried.

"Keep rowing, Joan." I whispered, reverting to her codename.

Silently, she complied, but with a clear quiver in each row that she carried on with. I held my arm up to my air rifle, safely shouldered and within my reach. No one would dare believe that this was merely non-lethal and could only knock out most of who would be shot, but I wasn't going to be telling them that. There was to be shown no submission to these thugs. They would not bow to a pair of lambs dressed for the slaughter to them.

We reached the docks, where I could see a lazy dockmaster, rocking on a chair and plucking a banjo. The song was easy enough to discern, even if it was the laziest render I had ever heard of it. He was even mumbling the lyrics as we climbed up from the boat.

"Oh, Suzanna, don't you cry for me. For I come from ol' Corona with a banjo on my-"

He stopped as we approached him. Every soul in the cove still stared at us, only the crickets making a racket. Above his head was a splintered sign with letters scorched into a long piece of driftwood, and a bird skull hanging from it with a nail through its eye socket.

" _Condor Point_ " it read.

"That's a mighty fine boat you got there." The dockmaster said.

"How much to keep it floating by the time we get back?" I asked, reaching for my coin purse.

No words. He only reached out a wrinkly hand, expecting me to guess. I rolled my eyes, pulled out a heaping pinch of gold Vytropi, and handed it to him.

He gave a low whistle through his rotting teeth. "Come back soon and you might be surprised."

"Thanks." I replied. "Where can we find Riley and Sons?"

The old man tilted his head inland. From there we could see what I assumed to be the tavern.

This one looked to be something of the biggest spectacle of a tavern, and the most dangerous. Three tall towers were held above a big compound made of what looked to be the husk of an old ship. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised me if this entire island had buildings made of the wood from old ships, some of which had not been properly dismantled like the capsized one in the cove. The towers were all connected via a network of rope bridges, and below, the building opened to a two story building with a triangular shape to encompass the towers.

Anna and I walked across the dock, through the beach and into the tavern, the silence continuing with us. From the ground of this tavern, we could see that the whole place was modelled to look like the below deck of a brig, all down to hammocks above where we could see more people glaring down at us.

I chucked more gold at the bartender. "Drinks all around." I snapped.

That got me the reaction I expected. Everyone cheered and went back to their drinking, happy to have an excuse to look away from us. It was clear to me why they stared as I walked through the tavern, looking for Henrik; they were not used to people from the city.

The bar was packed, and my wish to be ignored by paying for the tavern's next round didn't help in another way, because now it was harder to sport Henrik. It felt like an hour before I finally caught a glimpse of his shiny bald head, his back to us.

I made sure that my hood was up, and walked up.

"Henrik Brovold?" I muttered down at him, darkening my voice.

"Good gods, not here." He said, his words terrified, but his tone very casual.

He looked up at me, and grinned. "Ah. Matthew's pet dog off his little leash."

I sat down across from him, discreetly giving Anna the signal to stay back.

"I'm told you have a ship. We want to hire you."

"You were told correctly about the ship part." He said, glancing down at his drink. "But my crew is a different story. No doubt you saw some of them on your way in here."

"The entire place went silent once I landed."

"Yes, of course." He smirked. "Sorry about that. They must have sensed something much more noble about you, Lord Connor."

I groaned, then pulled my hood down.

"You think Matthew wasn't going to tell me exactly who I would be dealing with if you're the one who needs me? I don't deal in blind business." He kept his smirk on. "But all the same, I know the why you need my ship. I just need to know how much, and where."

"Why do you think I need to hire you?"

"I assume because you want to gather an army, launch an assault on Arendelle's capital, storm the gates of the castle, pry Hans' royal bottom off of Queen Elsa's throne, and throw him into the sea soaked in turkey blood for the sharks." He took a sip of his ale. "Did I miss anything?"

"Plenty. What point would there be to taking on Hans? Queen Elsa and Princess Anna are dead."

"Yes." He said, not losing his smirk. "And that's why I'm here instead of looking for them. I got wise ages ago, picked up a crew that was worth half my brains so I knew I was the smart one on board, and headed south to start dealing with better business. Don't bother wasting another breath on the dead, Connor. They won't be coming back to give you muffins as a thank you."

I wasn't finished, even if it seemed like Henrik had made his mind up. "The life we both knew is gone. Taken by that smug little prick and now we are both exiled."

"Maybe your life is done, but mine just got a whole lot better. I'm my own boss, even if Anna was enjoyable for a Princess to obey, and the only thing I need to worry is Coronian ships when they bother to search my hold. Not like it matters, since they're all focused on keeping Hans from turning south."

"Then you speak in gold, and only gold." I realized.

"Ah. Now you're on the right page."

"Alright. How much would it cost for you to take us to the Southern Isles?"

Henrik laughed out loud at that idea. "More than what Queen Rapunzel could afford."

"Give me a number."

"Ten million Vytropi."

I chuckled. "Now who's full of shit?"

"I never said that you were. That's my offer if you want to go straight to that place, and it'll cost you another ten million for me to take you back."

"That's a dirty deal."

I looked up. Anna didn't listen to me. In hindsight, when did she ever listen to anyone who told her what to do?

Henrik only grinned more. "You must be the Very Important Person. Matthew mentioned something about three women under your guard,"

I felt my wrist clench, the mechanism creaking and readying to engage. "Back off, Joan." I warned. "He doesn't play by the rules I thought he did."

"Oh, I still play by the rules. But they've always been _my_ rules."

"Queen Elsa and Princess Anna would be ashamed of you." Anna snapped, sitting down beside me.

"They're both dead, milady. You'll be too, soon if you stick with someone who attracts trouble like Asgeir."

I felt my heart leap, and suddenly my hidden blade activated. I didn't move, and neither did Henrik. He only stared back at me.

"I heard your name once. Years ago within the walls. It was enough. That's what your real name is, isn't it? Good Nordic name. Same name as the stillborn firstborn prince of King Agdar and Queen Gerda."

He looked around, making sure no one was listening. "I know exactly who are and why you joined the small council before Arendelle fell. You wanted to get to know your family while maintaining this… charade. You want my ship because you want to take revenge on the bastard who killed your sisters, and you want to take the crown for yourself."

"Two out of three." I replied. "I never wanted the Arendelle crown, and I know it would never fit right on a head like mine."

Anna looked uneasily at me as I kept speaking. This wasn't going well.

"You were open to a meeting with me. That is what Matthew told me before Joan and I left for this place. Is there anything that you are willing to give us that would make this meeting not a complete waste of our evening?"

"I simply wanted to get a feel for you, _Connor_." Henrik said, taking one last sip of his drink, draining it to the bottom. "And now I think that all you have to hope for is to keep heading south, and never look back. Arendelle is finished, and you might live a little longer the sooner you accept that."

"No."

I turned. Anna had spoken up again. Even with the Clover hiding her face so well, I could still see that she had put on her authority face, not nearly as lethal as Elsa's, but still effective.

"Asgeir and I will not let Arendelle die. We're tough cookies."

Henrik raised an eyebrow. "Tough… cookies?" He leaned forwards. "What are the three sails on my ship, girl?"

"Topsails, gallants and royals. If it's the same ship you owned as Admiral, it's a well stocked brig."

"What did you say about my figurehead the first time you saw it?"

Anna didn't miss a beat. It seemed she had been able to tip off to Henrik who she was without taking the Clover off. Our one last ace in the hole.

"I said it was pretty and creepy. And pretty creepy."

Henrik grinned. "How, milady? How did you survive?"

"It's a long story. One I don't think we should talk about here."

"Oh, of course." He agreed. "Well now, we can talk business, Asgeir. Is the other sister with you?"

"She's back in the city. Safe, I might add."

"Anywhere would be safer than Molrum." Henrik rubbed his chin.

"You're shocked, right?" Anna asked.

"Please. If I had a nickel for every time my commanding princess and queen disappeared for 4 months, long thought to be dead, and I was exiled for serving them left with just my personal ship and a drunken crew, I'd have a nickel!"

I chuckled. "You're going to need help whipping that crew into shape where we need going."

"You're absolutely right. But now I have a big reason to do it." Henrik raised his hand for a barmaid to come over. "Bring me something hard and put it in a big big glass."

When the barmaid left, Henrik turned to us.

"My crew won't be too much of a problem. It's my first mate. He drinks more than the rest of the crew and the fish in the sea combined."

"Where can I find him?"

"He usually sleeps in the pigpens." Henrik mumbled. "I don't let him take his stink onto my ship if he's going to act like that."

"A first mate not allowed on the ship." Anna mused. "Quite the paradox there."

"Find him, get him to sober up, and I'll meet you at the docks to your boat. We'll return to my ship and plot a course."

Anna and I got up from our table, and I placed a few silver Tryrin in front of Henrik.

"For your time, Henrik."

"First of many to come, if you'll be crewing with me, boy." He grinned. "You and miladies."

I glanced over at Anna as we walked out of the room, narrowly avoiding two men tackling each other as they fought over whatever had angered them.

"Tough cookie?"

"Henrik used to call me that when I was younger. Then when he started teaching me some sailing methods, he brought the nickname back. I never asked why he said it."

"And then he quizzed you on things about sailing to be sure that it was you." I followed.

"Yeah." Anna agreed. "But you were right, Asgeir. Leaving my presence with you as the last resort would help us out much further."

"What sort of feel did you get from Henrik, then?" I asked as we ducked around the corner, the pigpens coming into view.

"He's changed so much, Asgeir. Hans has destroyed so many lives by claiming the throne and exiling good people like Admiral Brovold."

We turned the corner into the pigsty, and she wrinkled her nose.

Pigs were all sleeping in the corner, along with a muddy figure on top of them, using one of the pigs as his pillow.

He had greasy black hair and a salt and pepper beard, an empty ceramic bottle at his feet, and a knife at his belt. He wore simple sailing garments and a grey vest over them. I knew exactly who this man was, because he was one of the people who had taught me a bit of how to sail ages and ages ago.

I looked over to the other side of the pigsty, and noticed two buckets of water that they clearly used for drinking water. I pointed to the other for Anna to pick up as I walked right over, and dumped it onto the snoozer's head.

The pigs squealed and the man lunged up, cursing and screaming. "CURSE YOU FOR BREATHIN' YOU SLACK JAWED IDIOT!" He roared, drawing his knife.

Anna and I merely looked down on him as he tried to process what had just happened.

He squinted his eyes as he looked up into my face. "By the gods! Asgeir! What's it been, fifteen years? You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleepin'." He spluttered up some water. "It's bad luck."

"Ah, fortunately I know how to remedy that, Josh." I chuckled, kneeling down to his eye level. "The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink, and the man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking."

It took Joshamee a second to understand what I was talking about, then shrugged. "Aye. That'll about do it."

I grinned, pulling him up to stand. As soon as he was upright, Anna hit him with another bucketful of water.

Joshamee shivered and shook the water from his face. "BLAST! I'M ALREADY AWAKE!"

"Sorry." Anna said, meaning it. "But that was for the smell."

My old deckmate was about to snarl again, but then shrugged, submitting to her, and admitting that he did indeed reek of shit.

"Come on, Gibbs." I laughed. "I'll go get you a drink."

"Aye. Ran out of money playin' cards with the others in there." He said. "Couldn't keep them comin' after that."

"Asgeir, we promised Henrik that we'd sober him up."

Gibbs, hearing Henrik's name, was about to protest further, but I held my hand up.

"He's going to have to be a little drunk once he hears what I'm offering, Joan."

"The years have been kind to you, old boy." He said, chuckling. "Last I saw you, Matthew was taking you off on another adventure with the Assassins."

Gibbs had no idea the kind of hell that I had gone through in the years after we had parted. The years were not nearly as kind to me as he would have believed just by looking at me.

"I wish I could say the same." I said, eyeing his mud splattered clothes. "You're first mate of Henrik Brovold now?"

"Aye. He came down here to Corona a few months ago. Hired me and a few other rascals to join his ship, but work hasn't been easy. All thanks to this damn shitheel King Hans."

"Joan, Gibbs here and I served on the same ship years back. He taught me how to steer the ship at one point." I explained.

"Did you keep your sea legs, by the way?"

"No." I replied. "Forgot a lot of it. Not much to keep within your mind when most of what your business deals with is killing the next Templar that screws you over."

"Aye. And who be the next Templar we're screwin' over? Is Henrik joinin' up with your little cause?"

"First, drinks all around, and then we'll talk."

"That's my boy!" He cackled as we walked back into the Riley and Sons pub.

Henrik was nowhere to be seen inside. I didn't expect he would, after he was meaning to wait for us at the docks.

We claimed a table in a corner far at the back of the pub. I glanced back to Anna as we started to take our seats.

"Keep an eye out, sister." I ordered.

Anna nodded, pulling back and turning her back towards us as I placed a foaming mug of ale in front of Gibbs, who took it happily.

"So, what's the nature of this venture o' yorn?" He said, beginning to chug.

"We're going to kill King Hans."

Gibbs coughed back into his mug, and looked back up at me with a glare that suggested I was even more crazier than him, which was saying something.

"He's taken Arendelle in the name of the Templars, and now all of Elsa's real subjects are running scared. We take him and the entire Southern Isles royal family down, and the Templars will be completely destroyed from this realm."

Gibbs shook his head. "Asgeir, this is a fool's errand." He growled. "You know better than anyone that this world is worse than it has been for the last hundred years thanks to the Templars. It was bad enough with King Agdar and Queen Gerda on the throne, and now you want to charge once more into the breach with this man on the throne?"

"That's why it has to be done with precision only the Assassins can manage. You know of us, Gibbs, so you know what we need. For starters, we have to head south and find the rest of our allies."

Gibbs was not on the same page with me. "Way I hear tell of this boy Hans, he isn't one to suffer fools, or strike a bargain with one. You bring any chaos to his domain and his boil and cleanse you from this earth."

"Then it's a good thing that I'm not a fool."

"Prove me wrong!" He snapped. "What makes you think that you have any chance of gathering the forces to strike against Hans? You may have a small number of Assassins, but he has hundreds of thousands of men, massive armada, and word is that he's developing new weapons to truly put the hurt on the North. One dozen of us isn't nearly enough to raid Hans' pantry!"

I glimpsed back at Anna, still keeping watch. She didn't look anything like her usual self, which would still prove to be a valuable asset for us in our fight against Hans. The more we used the Clover, the more I realized it was the most valuable tool we had besides our blades.

"You haven't met my sister yet, have you Gibbs?"

He glanced back at her. "The girl? Aye, I remember you telling me something about them when you were young."

"Who did I say they were?"

Gibbs closed his eyes, straining to summon back those long dead memories, rubbing his eyes with silent fury. Finally, it occurred to him, and he looked up at Anna, who still looked away from us.

"Is she-?"

"The entire world think that my own flesh and blood is dead. When the time is right, we bring them forth, aye?"

Gibbs suddenly grinned, showing off those rotted teeth only fit for a pirate like him. "I think I feel a change in the wind, says I!"

"Then it's settled. Henrik wants you and the rest of the crew to sober up while we plot our next course. We're heading to the Southern Isles. Have some missing Assassins to account for. Get to the ship and we'll see you bright and early."

"With you and the Assassins back, absolutely. Had nothing to live for except the next ale, but now we have a fight comin'. See you soon, boy!"

Getting up from the table, I walked past Anna.

"Come on." I said. "We're going back."

Anna caught up and the both of us headed out the door and towards the docks.

"So… this guy Gibbs knows?"

I nodded. "Matthew sent me to the Thousand Indies many years ago when I was still a boy. He wanted me to learn sailing from some of the best hands he knew. Gibbs is in the loop, but he is not one of us, Joan."

"Are you sure that's safe? What about those three rules you told me the Assassins follow?"

Henrik was waiting for us just by the docks, chatting away with the old dockmaster. Our boat was still there.

"The rule is to never compromise the Brotherhood, Joan. Gibbs would never sell someone he's known as long as me out."

"Then I guess it's a lucky break that he works for Henrik."

I nodded. "Almost too lucky, I might add."

Henrik waved over to us. "Ah. That didn't take long. I trust Gibbs has told you both you have sexual relations with yourselves?" He chuckled.

"He'll be there bright and early, stone cold sober." I shot back. "And I hope the same can be said for you and your crew."

If Henrik was surprised, his minimal reaction of his smirk slightly fading was enough. "Well done. I'll make sure to dock over in the city tomorrow morning, and you and the rest can bunk in my cabin for the time being until we set sail."

"Thank you, Admiral." Anna replied.

Henrik waved his hand away. "I never forget those I serve, milady. Just come back tomorrow morning in one piece."

Anna grinned back as we both climbed back down into the rowboat, and shoved off, this time me taking the oars.

As we pulled back out of the cove, the noise in the isle didn't tone down. It was clear from how we came in to how we came out that we had not been welcome. But meeting with Henrik and coming out with everything intact was enough to prove to whatever scoundrels that lived in this rock far off into the Corona Bay that we were just as capable of living like them.

Anna too couldn't believe how we made it out of that. The sun was just finishing it's decent, and the moon was rising. She breathed loudly and slowly as I kept pulling us closer back to the city.

"So, what is our next move?"

"We're safe now, Anna." I replied. "Until this Corbin fellow unearths some dirt on where Troy and Rabbit might be kept, I'd say the whole lot of us have earned some downtime. We'll keep our nose clean and our heads down, and we'll do just fine here in Corona for the foreseeable future."

Anna grinned. "Just checking."

It was a largely lucky day that I had faced. Everything happened quickly enough with two meetings on the same day. Now we had a ship to take us south, and a gang of thieves to help us find our missing people. The luck was immeasurable. But that could also mean something much darker that didn't hit me until I felt my heart leap as I kept rowing back towards the busy seaside market, floating lanterns beginning to be set afloat to help illuminate the bay. The luck we felt today could also mean that I had just used the last of it, and things were about to run out for us.


	9. Chapter 9: Asgeir IV

**A/N: Every time I sit down to write, it gets prefaced with my little comments about how long this story has been going on for. I know how it ends, and I know how to get there, but when you go out into the real world after years of school, life will get in the way, or maybe most days you just don't feel like writing. I've recently hit a big clump of motivation which I know will end at some point. Knowing that I have to take advantage of this fact, I've written this chapter in the last week. Maybe some points of the story will have me dreading more writing because it's not the parts I want to get to yet. As a reader, you want to skip to the best parts of some of your favourite novels when you know what happens. And as a writer, you can almost feel the same sort of way. Thanks for your patience, enjoy this chapter, and know that more is coming very soon.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Asgeir IV

Mornings in Corona were often punctuated by a light breeze. This morning that breeze rippled through the two large sails up on the masts of the ship Anna and I had been sent to, the Aboleth's Fury. Anna's hair was still done back in the ponytail, black as night to keep her identity safe. Climbing aboard the ship, Gibbs waved us over.

"Welcome aboard, children!" He grinned.

I smirked. Gibbs had known me since my father had still been alive, so it was only natural for him to still see me that way.

"How are we looking today, Josh?" I asked.

"A light breeze, calm waters, and not a cloud to be had in the sky." He sniffed the air loudly. "Ahh, there's nothing like a perfect sailing day."

"And we have a heading yet?" Anna asked.

"You'll have to check with the Captain for that." Gibbs replied. "He's down in his cabin."

On that note, both of us turned back around, heading down the stairs into the doors below the wheel, where we found Henrik with his back to the door, leaning over his desk.

"Hello, Asgeir. Milady." He said without looking up.

Anna jumped. "How can you do that?" She demanded. "How does he do that?" She said to me.

"Easy enough when I hear Gibbs say right above me 'welcome aboard, children'." He smirked, facing us. His horn rimmed glasses would give the face of a more timid man than the one I knew we were facing.

Anna was about to retort, but then nodded. "Oh… okay."

"How far is it to the cache?" I asked, pointing to the map on Henrik's desk.

"Not too far, actually." He replied. "I'm surprised Hans would dare bring one of his deposits of gold so close to the Coronian coast if this is to be believed. In any case, the coordinates are set, and we have our heading." He folded up the map, pocketing it. "And if you don't mind, I would like you to take the wheel for this."

I glanced to Anna, thinking for a moment that Henrik meant me. Apparently Anna thought the same, but then shook her head.

"Asgeir, I've only read about sailing ships. But you're the one out of all of us that has really done it."

"The girl is right, Asgeir." Henrik nodded. "Gibbs has vouched for you, and even I remember the day the Gemini twins attacked Arendelle."

So did I, but from so long ago that it felt like the ghost of a dream of a memory. Memories of smoke on the waves of the fjord. Screaming and cannon fire. All fighting to protect the fjord for my family.

And even if I didn't remember those moments of fighting to take down the Gemini, there were memories I had of another ship. One lost to the ages, her name and memory only existing within my own head, knowing her fate was to sink here in this land; the Morrigan.

"Come on." Henrik said, heading past us to the door. "Gibbs can walk you through it."

He opened it for me, turning around. When Anna started to the door, Henrik raised a hand.

"Are you coming out to man the deck, Milady?" He asked.

Anna looked up at him. "Um… yes."

Henrik raised his eyebrow. "If you are out there, I will need you to do something. You don't stand around on my ship. We can have you man one of the swivels."

I coughed. Firing a cannon was not Anna's style. Not if it meant killing the people on the other ship. We were eventually going to have to use the Fury, among many many other ships to take back Arendelle against Hans' own fleet, but this was not someone who was meant to man a cannon.

Anna seemed to read my expression, and silently agree. She pointed at Henrik's hand full of the objects he had laid out on his table. "That's a spyglass." She said. "Give it to me. I might be able to help guide us and keep watch."

Henrik kept his eyebrow raised, then handed it to her without another word.

"At the helm… Mister Cormac." He said.

Heading out onto the deck, the three of us came up just as sails were being lowered, and Gibbs was steering us out to sea.

"Captain at the helm!" He called out.

"The wheel is Mister Cormac's, Mister Gibbs." He said, then turned to me. "Treat her well."

And on that note, he sat down at a table right behind the wheel, leaving me to take the wheel as Gibbs stepped away.

Admittedly, it did feel a bit natural to me once the wheel came to my hands. I had done this a few times before, and even with a few years out of practice, everything was returning to me on a day as clear and breezy as this.

"Due south by southwest, Mister Cormac." Henrik said, sitting down and closing his eyes; The bastard was taking a nap while I was left with Gibbs to figure out what to do."

Gibbs seemed to notice my stress, and stepped up beside me to the wheel.

"You're out of any real danger." He said, gesturing around us. From our bow forwards, only open seas were out. The rest of the Bay of Lanterns was all around us from portside, starboard and to our stern, so nothing could hit us.

"She can feel when you tense up." Gibbs explained. "So you have to show her that you are in control."

Anna looked over at us, away from the spyglass in her hands. "I'm sorry, who? The ship?"

"Aye, Milady!" Gibbs chortled. "A ship is always a 'she'! We'll make sure you both get your sea legs sprouted right!"

"Awesome." Anna grinned. "And south by southwest? So which way?" She said, looking back out with her spyglass

I consulted an open compass placed beside the wheel. "Turning a bit to starboard." I said, noticing we were straight south.

Gibbs put his hand over his eyes, shading his gaze. "Should be smooth sailing for at least an hour." He said.

Anna pulled her eye back from the spyglass. "An hour?!" She cried.

"Aye. Lot of long sailing when you go to open waters." Gibbs replied.

"So then how do you pass the time?"

Gibbs laughed. "Asgeir, remember any of our shanties?"

I chuckled, then thought hard. But I guess while the sailing came back somewhat naturally to me, the same could not be said for the singing.

Gibbs nodded. "I can take point." He cleared his throat and his voice rang out.

" _Safe and sound at home again._

 _Let the waters roar, Jack!_

 _Safe and sound at home again._

 _Let the waters roar, Jack!"_

 _The crew didn't miss a beat, and all sang accordingly._

 _"Long we've tossed on the rolling main._

 _Now we're safe ashore, Jack._

 _Don't forget your old shipmates._

 _Folly rolly rolly olly aye oh!_ "

Gibbs grinned, then beckoned for us to join along.

" _Since we sailed from Plymouth Sound_

 _Four years gone, or nigh, Jack._

 _Was there ever chummies, now._

 _Such as you and I, Jack?_ "

" _Long we've tossed on the rolling main._

 _Now we're safe ashore, Jack_

 _Don't forget your old shipmates_

 _Folly rolly rolly olly aye oh!_ " We sang out along.

These were old memories that I had of life on the deck. Gibbs taught me many of songs sung in both taverns frequented by sailors, and sung on the deck to the beat of the waves. His voice sounded like crushed glasses of ale compared to Anna, but I don't think even she cared as we happily sung through the rest of the song to the end.

Anna applauded. "Asgeir and I sung with sailors a few months ago!"

I shook my head. "It was over thirty years ago, Anna." I reminded her.

Her face fell when I reminded her. "But you came out the other side unchanged." She replied. "How?"

"Cruelty by Ingrid." I said. I tapped my fist against my heart. "How bout another one, Gibbs?" I changed the subject as fast as I could.

"Aye. But which one?"

While we were singing the first one, I was able to remember one that told a story. One that was simply put about how hell hath no fury.

I cleared my throat.

" _William Taylor was a brisk young sailor_

 _Full of heart and full of play_

 _Until he did his mind uncover._

 _To a youthful lady gay!_ "

Gibbs grinned, and I could even feel something coming from Henrik as I kept singing with what I hoped was a decent voice, still watching the waves ahead

" _Four and twenty Southern sailors._

 _Met him on the King's highway._

 _As he went for to be married._

 _Pressed he was and sent away._ "

Gibbs and the rest of the crew chanted, leaving Anna to hopelessly try to follow along; she did not know this one.

" _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._

 _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._ "

" _Sailor's clothing she put on._

 _And went aboard a man o' war._

 _Her pretty little fingers long and slender._

 _They were smeared with pitch and tar._ "

Singing this song made me think of Anna. Hiding as a soldier among many others sounds just like the kind of thing that she would do, but not what the lady would do at the end of the song.

" _On that ship there was a battle._

 _She amongst the rest did fight._

 _The wind tore off her silver buttons_

 _Her breasts were bared all snowy white._ "

Definitely not something I wanted to picture, but I chuckled as Anna laughed, and she tried to chant along with the crew.

" _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._

 _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae_."

" _When the captain did discover/ he said-_ " I began

" _FAIR MAID!_ " Gibbs shouted. " _What brought you here?_ "

Laughing, we beckoned for Anna to join in. She shook her head. "I don't know the words!"

Gibbs chortled again. "That's what we write them down for!" He handed her a sheet he had gotten from a box by the wheel

Anna took the sheet, then picked it up. " _Sir, I'm seeking William Taylor._

 _Pressed he was by you last year._ "

" _If you rise up in the morning._

 _Early at the break of day._

 _There you'll spy young William Taylor._

 _Walking with his lady gay._ " The two of us sung.

"Wait, what?!" Anna cried. "He married someone else?"

Gibbs and I didn't answer, as the whole ship now, Anna included chanted along.

" _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._

 _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._ "

" _She rose early in the morning. Early at the break of day._

 _There she spied young William Taylor_

 _Walking with his lady gay._ " I sung this part grimly, knowing what would happen in the end. " _She procured a pair of pistols._

 _On the ground where she had stood…_ " I drew my own flintlock, and pointed it up. " _There she_ * **BANG** * _poor William Taylor_.

 _And the lady at his right hand._ "

Anna and Gibbs both jumped at the gunshot, but no one skipped a beat as we continued to sing for one last chant.

" _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._

 _Folleri-de-dom, de- daerai diddero._

 _Folleri-de-dom, domme daerai dae._ "

Henrik stood up from his seat, laughing. "Excellent delivery on that last part."

Anna looked at the sheet in her hands. "Is that right? He marries another woman?"

"Aye." Gibbs replied. "But it really is one of the better shanties. Asgeir and I heard it in a tavern when he was learning from me."

Anna put the sheet aside, collapsing the spyglass. "So you knew Asgeir before I did?"

"Oh, aye." Gibbs said. "Matthew and his father approached me years and years back. Told me that they thought he needed to learn a trick or two at the helm."

"Gibbs…" I warned.

"Hold your horses, Asgeir." Anna said. "I wanna hear what kind of a boy you were!"

Gibbs shrugged. "You heard the lady, Asgeir. Just keep her on course."

So, hopelessly and knowing that Anna would find out these stories one way or another, I kept silent while steering the boat steadily southwards, drifting ever so slightly to the right every once in a while to keep us on point. The minutes passed by with Gibbs telling Anna more and more stories from my early days, before I officially took my hood, still learning the tricks and trades of life as an outlaw Assassin.

"Your brother once got snagged by one of the main mast lines." Gibbs chuckled. "Did you know that?"

Anna laughed her hearty laugh. "No. He never told me anything of what he did when he was a boy."

"He was eager to prove himself to the captain. So when he saw a sail was loosening up, he ran right down steps like these…" He gestured. "Ran right up to straighten it, and then when he tripped over the slackened line, he ended up getting pulled right into the sails by his ankle."

Anna glanced at me, grinning. "So how did that end?" She asked me.

"Miraculously, I didn't fall on my head. Gibbs and that short friend of his had to climb up to go get me." I sighed. "The captain had me stay right here at all times from then on out."

Henrik glanced down at the maps. "We should be getting there soon. Milady, pay attention, southwards."

Anna pulled out the spyglass, then looked out to the open waters. A few minutes went by, probably her quietest moments ever before finally…

"Oh! Oh! I think I see the island! I think I see it!"

Henrik only laughed. "I think it's clear which one of you is really missing the sea legs, Asgeir. Milady, you have to say-"

"Oh, right!" Anna remembered. "LAAAAAAAAND HOOOOOOOO!"

Pushing hard down on the wheel, I pointed the ship in the direction in which Anna was looking, and we kept that course.

Henrik pinched on his glasses as he stared out to sea. The sunlight sparkled hard against the blue-green colors of the ocean, but before long we could clearly make out the form of the little island. The supposed place where Damien had hidden some of the gold Hans was keeping for himself.

Henrik kept a watchful eye out before saying. "Alright, lads! Drop anchor! We'll be heading in ourselves."

Anna and I left the wheel behind as Gibbs walked down to the hold, Henrik beckoning for the crew to prepare a rowboat for us to shore.

"I don't trust my men enough to find the gold with us." He explained aloud. "So the four of us will be going alone." One of the crew eyed Henrik with a mix of fury and confusion as he said that, to which he replied. "Um, yes offense, sailor."

I shrugged as I took the decrypted chart from Henrik, and began to look at it. I remembered seeing some sort of strange description of a "rifle shaped tree" on this island, but now I could indeed see something of the sort here, pointed downwards into the sand by the barrel.

Henrik's crew began to lower the boat into the water, and Gibbs came back up with shovels and oars.

"Fire a cannon if you spot anyone coming." He told one of the crew as he climbed over the railing, and disappeared over the edge.

Anna and I quietly followed behind, Henrik taking up the rear as the four of us piled into the little boat.

"You forgot this." Henrik said, handing the compass that had been by the wheel to me. "It never hurts to know the direction when we're looking for buried loot."

Looking down at the compass, the big red arrow pointing directly at me as we started to row to the island, I wondered how that could work, only knowing north when we were looking for buried treasure on the isle. But all the same, I shut it, then clipped it to my belt when I saw that it had a piece of leather cord for that.

The island's beach was a long sandbar, stretching out to the rest of the island, where a small amount of trees were grouped together.

"Where to, Mr. Comac?" Gibbs asked.

I looked down at the charts, reading the mention of the "rifle tree".

"Um… let's find a rifle shaped tree, and then work from there."

Gibbs gave a nod, heaving the shovels over his shoulders as he climbed out of the boat. The whole lot of us did, heading off to the group of lone trees on the small island.

"Fire a cannon…" Anna murmured. "Are you expecting company?" She asked Gibbs.

"Aye, Milady. The captain and I always try to stay on guard, especially these days. We have no idea if Hans abandoned this chest, or if he is sending men of his own to recover this, now that his bookkeeper is dead."

Before long we stood in front of the set of tree, now looking at one that was stripped bald of its bark, leaving a tree bent out of shape and free of leaves. One shaped exactly like an old rifle sticking out of the ground.

"Seventeen paces northwest from its trunk." I read. Then I pulled the compass from my belt, and opened it to steady it.

Anna immediately stepped forwards and took to the trunk. She put her back right up against the tree, and then began to walk as I guided.

"One… two… three… four…"

Gibbs eyed Annas steps carefully, making sure that she was being equal with her footing.

"If we aren't precise enough, we could be stuck here for longer than we need to be." He said.

"...sixteen… seventeen!" Anna stopped.

"Alright." I said, as Anna scraped the heel of her boot into the sand. I rubbed the back of my shaved head as Gibbs handed me one of the shovels, and then began to dig.

The sun was reaching its peak as we dug. Less than a week ago the whole lot of us were shivering with the cold from Arendelle's coldest winter in living memory, and now the heat was purely sweltering, the sun beating down on us, four sailors on the southern seas, looking to an island off the coast of Corona for gold potentially buried right here for us to take with us.

It was a difficult dig, especially since it became clear to me later in the dig that this was the first Anna had used a shovel before. Not that she wasn't using it correctly, no, no. She was only digging with strain that suggested it was a lot harder than she had thought before. And I was just about to suggest that she take a break, when we hit something.

The four of us jolted awake after what felt like mindless digging. Henrik bent down with his glasses pressed to his face, and the four of us began to brush away the dirt.

The chest was large enough for two people to carry between them. The hole we had dug, however, was well over four feet deep, so it would take a lot of lifting to get it out. However, Gibbs seemed to know what I was thinking, and began to dig to the side of the hole.

"Stairs." He explained to Henrik, who laughed, and then began to dig away the chest with his hands.

"I'm sorry, but how do we know that this has any gold in it?" Anna asked.

"Let's get it out of the hole, Anna." I said, digging around the chest to loosen it from the ground. "Get it out and then decide if it's legit when we pry it open."

Getting the chest out was admittedly much easier once Gibbs had finished the stairs of sand he was digging out for us. Once we were set, and the four of us were able to push from one side and pull from the other to get the whole thing out, we then had a whole chest out on the sand, out among the trees with the ship so far out at the water.

Anna looked down on it with the wonder of a small child. "Amazing…" She gasped.

I nodded, and then took my cutlass at my belt, and slid it between the lid and the chest. The sand and sea air had seemingly damaged the lock enough, so all it took was one good pry to open the chest, and show what was inside.

"Mother's love…" Gibbs exclaimed.

Henrik laughed. "So it turns out you can trust a thief like that."

There was no way for us to count the amount of gold in the chest, but it was all rolled up in paper and laid out neatly. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the very same chest that Damien had hidden for Hans instead of some other forgotten cache. One chest of who knows how many more out there. At least now I knew that Corbin had some ounce of honor.

"Let's get this to the-"

I suddenly looked up as the rest of us heard it. One firing of a cannon. The timing could not have been worse as I ran out from the trees to look out at the ship. From the west there came another one. Pale blue sails flapping in the ocean breeze, a symbol hard to make out on its main mast, which looked like a yellow crescent moon. But I knew what it was: a palm tree.

"Time to go!" I yelled. "It's a Southern Isles ship!"

Gibbs, Anna and Henrik didn't skip a beat. The whole lot of them grabbed the chest, hauling ass to make it to the boat, where I was already grabbing the oars and preparing to push off.

Gibbs chucked the chest right over, scattering a gold coin or two aside. Henrik swept the coins up just as Anna flung herself in, screaming "GO!"

Whoever was at the helm on the ship wasn't leaving without us just yet. They circled the ship around, slicing through the waves towards us. I kept rowing harder than ever before. I knew that the ship that had come here was coming for the gold Hans must have known about. I hoped this didn't mean he was racing for the rest. But I also knew that if we weren't fast enough, these bastards would fetch an even fatter prize than a chest full of gold: the heir apparent to the throne of Arendelle, and the White Reaper.

Crew members up on the deck threw grappling hooks to us on ropes.

"Tie them to the boat, Captain!"

Henrik grabbed a rope, then smacked me on the back.

"Take the wheel, Asgeir!"

"What?"

"If that ship comes back to Hans, you'll lose all the element of surprise!" He called. "Would it help you climb up and take the wheel if I said that it was a direct order?!"

I didn't reply, only jumping right against the ship, grabbing the handholds to climb up the hull onto the deck.

Already the ship's crews were making ready to fire. All I had to do was to give the order. Now as I vaulted up over the railing and climbs the stairs to the wheel, I tried my hardest to remember how Shay did it all.

Half sail… full sail… swivels and broadside cannons. I saw that the ship at least had cannons. That would be enough, but this was against what I assumed was a well trained and equipped ship full of Southern Isle soldiers.

The crew member at the wheel wordlessly handed it right back to me as I felt the ship shift a bit. The rowboat had been attached, Henrik, Gibbs and Anna were now climbing the ship, and on the other side we now had a fully equipped Southern Isle ship coming right at us. I wasn't a fan of these odds, but I'd much rather fight them than go down without one.

I held my hand up as the other ship kept approaching hard towards us. "Hold fire!" I ordered.

Henrik, Anna and Gibbs all vaulted over the side railing of the ship as I spun her wheel, facing her broadside right where I wanted it.

My hand was still raised. Gibbs sprinted up to my side, looking uneasy.

"What are you waiting for?" He called.

He got his answer when the ship finally got within range of the ship. Her crew thought a good placed ram would split us in two, but they got a big shock.

"FIRE!" I hollered.

Every cannon at the ready shot off. From so far away, I could make out shapes of her crew.

"What sort of shots do we carry on board?" I called out as I spun the wheel around, maneuvering us further away from the attacking brig.

"We carry chain shots as well as the standard rounds." Gibbs replied. "But are we looking to disable, or sink her?"

That was something I had not considered. Provisions she had on board might be useful to us, but the crew could not come back. Not if they might know who we were.

"Disable her for now." I said. "We'll sink her if she proves more trouble than she's worth!"

"Aye, aye, Mr. Cormac!"

"Get people on the swivels." I ordered, keeping the ship spinning around. I was using a feinting motion, making it look as though we meant to flee after one attack, and instead fire another set of shots at the other ship. With the stern end of the ship pointed at her, I could make out the ship's name: the Advantage.

Anna came up to take the other side behind me. "What should I do?" She called.

"Unless you mean to fire a shot at them, Milady, I suggest you hide!" Gibbs replied.

Anna looked over at Gibbs, and then saw the swivel cannon to my left. No one was manning it just yet, the gunner grabbing more shots to load into it.

"Let me fight!" She called out.

Henrik looked over at his princess, and then at me. I shook my head, meaning to say that I did not speak for her. Henrik understood, and then took her over to the swivel gun.

"Alonso!" He yelled. "Show this smart cookie how it's done!"

The gunner carrying more shots to the swivel gave a nod, dropping the sack by his feet as he guided Anna to the gun, showing her the lever to pull.

By the time Anna was ready to fire the shot he had loaded in for her, the Advantage was within range for another shot. I didn't waste any time at all.

"Fire all!" I hollered once again.

Every shot found its mark, and smoke and splinters rose from her damaged shell. The fight was almost completely out of her, but not out of her crew. We needed to finish her off completely. Luckily she was close enough that we could finish her off within minutes.

Suddenly, Anna noticed something.

"Load the gun again!" She cried.

Alonso obliged as fast as he could, which was very fast indeed. I watched with astonishment as Anna aimed the cannon carefully, pointing the cannon at an exposed section of the ship. It was full of barrels…

BOOM

The entire ship rocked and shuddered with Anna's well placed shot, and soon, she was unable to keep moving. I smiled with pride.

"Reel her in, lads!" I cried, suddenly jumping from the wheel.

Anna backed off and immediately took cover behind the wheel as I did so, drawing a cutlass Gibbs passed to me.

"Stay here!" Gibbs instructed.

"Stay here?!" I cried. "We're taking that ship!"

"And if we do, no one needs to know we have an Assassin aboard!" He ordered.

I didn't have my hood raised over my head, and yet in that moment, I knew Gibbs was right. Provided these bastards didn't know about the Assassins, we would need to keep it that way.

Gibbs then pointed at the swivel. "The lady already did a magnificent job on the crew. You can do just as much here! Just keep the shots clear of us!"

Crew members from the Fury were already reeling the ship closer and closer. By the time they were close enough to board the ship, I had already taken down four more crew members from the swivel.

Gibbs came with a flintlock drawn out, and Henrik with his cutlass. It was then that I noticed the man that would need to die as fast as possible.

Finely dressed with a tricorne hat and epaulets on his rich red coat, I spotted the Captain as he ran out of his cabin. I took aim with the swivel, and only spotted his glare reach my eyes for the fleetest of moments.

"Hello." I muttered, tensing my wrist.

The swivel shot flew right out from across the deck, bounced off the wood of the deck and smacked the Captain right in the chest. Horror and realization hit his face as soon as the shot drove him right backwards across the deck, knocking his hat clean off his head. Like one of the dolls Anna played with as a girl, he fell right off the railing of the ship and down into the darkness of the sea.

Once the crew of the Advantage saw that their Captain had died fallen within seconds, they began throwing down swords and falling to their knees. Seeing the battle won, Gibbs beckoned me and Anna to come over.

I helped her over the side as we came across the battle scarred deck to a waiting Henrik and his first mate.

"Well done, you two." He said.

"But I didn't do anything." Anna said, looking back at where she had hid.

"Didn't do anything? Milady, you gave the shot that crippled this fine vessel right here. She won't be flying for a good amount of time."

"Or ever, if Mr. Cormac allows it." Gibbs said.

"Pardon?" I asked.

Gibbs stepped forwards. "Now we face a choice with this ship. This crew will fight for us knowing that we spared them. Tis the honor bound Code of sailing, pirates as we are."

"Okay, fine." I said. "As long as that captain is gone. Hans being the navy bound man he is, that Captain likely knew him."

"Aye." Gibbs replied. "Which means you killed only those that needed to here. Good work, boy. Now to decide the ship. She'll need repairs since we crippled her, but if we haul her back to Corona, I know some friends of mine who can get her… ship shape so to speak. They'll even change her name to keep Hans from finding us."

"Or?" I asked.

"Or we strip her down even further and use the pieces to repair the Fury. Gods know she took a few good shots in this fight." Henrik said. "I'd suggest the latter."

"Why?" Anna asked.

Henrik began to beckon taking the crew of the Advantage to the Fury to set them up on the ship.

"Money, for one thing, Milady." He replied. "Taking her in means putting more finances and resources on her. Something I doubt your brother can afford at the moment."

He was right. How much would maintaining and sailing this brig cost for us, with us already strapped enough as it was?

"But we need ships." Anna pointed out. "The Fury won't be enough to take on Hans and the other of his dozen family members hunting us down. Like it or not, this looks like a good ship, and one more ship means double than what we had this morning." She grinned. "Asgeir was right, counting has become important these days."

I looked around, laughing at Anna's comment. The Advantage looked busted up enough with the battle she had been put in, but if we put enough money into her when we could afford it, she'd make a fine addition to our arsenal.

"Mr. Gibbs." I said out loud.

"Aye, Mr. Cormac."

"These friends of yours? Can they store the ship? Until we are ready to repair and put her to the seas again?"

"Aye!" He said. "They might ask for a bit of coin for holding her, but they have more than enough space for it."

"Hook her to the stern, tow her from behind, and switch her colors with a black flag." I ordered. "If anyone sees us towing her into the bay, we just caught ourselves a nasty ship of pirates."

Henrik chuckled. "Milady, I like this one a lot. Working with you is going to be a gas, Asgeir!"

Towing the Advantage back into the Bay of Lanterns was a little bit harder than leaving it. Fortunately, other ships gave us more than enough space, likely thinking that we had indeed taken down a pirate ship by flying black colors from her. Once we had docked, Gibbs went off to arrange storing her away. Before long, Henrik had brought us down to a quiet beach, relaxing after a long and eventful day.

Gibbs came back down momentarily, carrying with him a large bottle, and an even larger purse. He promptly tossed both to me as he sat down by a bonfire that Henrik had started up.

"Profits from today with the Advantage's cargo. He said. "I think you earned it, Mr. Cormac."

"And this?" I held up the bottle.

"What else after a day like today?"

I laughed, uncorking the bottle of rum and taking a long swig of the pleasantly burning serum.

"A day of fun before days of work." Henrik said. "I think you have a great future as a killer on the ocean as well on the land, Asgeir."

Anna shook her head as she reached out for the rum. Shrugging, I handed it over to her. Anna took a drink, then coughed and passed it right over to Henrik.

"I'll pass." She simply said.

Laughing again, I sat back, thinking back on the day we had. Hans had lost one of his ships, but he likely had thousands more. Every one captained by men who would not go down as easy as the one we had taken today. This was only another step in our long journey that I was determined to ensure would mean the Templars would never return to this great land. I would purge them for good from Arendelle, from Corona, and if possible, even from the Southern Isles. All to ensure that this land could finally see peace after well over thirty years of misery from snow queens, from evil queens, and more importantly, from tyranny.

"We need another song." Anna said. "Asgeir?"

I thought about it for a second. A slower song to wind down from this day. Then I knew just the one.

" _Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme._

 _Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine._

 _Come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain._

 _For we may or might never all meet here again._ "

Gibbs and Henrik knew it well, judging by how they jumped right in.

" _So here's a health to the company and one to my lass._

 _Let's drink and be merry all out of one glass._

 _Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain._

 _For we may or might never all meet here again._ "

Anna didn't know this one, but I slid over beside her as Gibbs continued.

" _Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well_

 _For her style and her beauty there's none can excel._

 _There's a smile on her countenance as she sits upon my knee._

 _There is no man in this wide world as happy as me._ "

As we continued with the chorus, I saw a few people walking up to us on the beach. A number of our little group, including Elsa and Kristoff, smiling down at us as they joined. The only reason we'd be singing the way we were was that we had a good day.

" _So here's a health to the company and one to my lass._

 _Let's drink and be merry all out of one glass._

 _Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain._

 _For we may or might never all meet here again._ "

When we had landed I counted all the gold that we had dug up on the little island. In the end, we were much better off financially than we would have expected. Over sixteen thousand gold pieces, half of which we did have to give to Corbin and the Thieves Guild, but still a great advantage for us. And eventually when we could afford it, we would have another Advantage to use. A good day indeed.

" _Our ship lies at anchor, she is ready to dock._

 _I wish her safe landing without any shock._

 _And if ever I should meet you by land or by sea._

 _I will always remember your kindness to me._

 _So here's a health to the company and one to my lass._

 _Let's drink and be merry all out of one glass._

 _Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain._

 _For we may or might never all meet here again._ "

Cheering and applauding ourselves, Anna sat up.

"Oh! Asgeir!" She said. "I grabbed this when we took the ship!"

"You fought a ship?!" Elsa said, shock in her tone.

"Aye, Your Majesty." Gibbs said. "A Southern Isles ship nearly beat us to the bearings, but we beat them back and took their ship."

"And what if Hans finds out the ship was destroyed and the crew kidnapped?" She demanded.

"She was taken by a crew of humble pirates looking to cash in on the wealth of the Southern Isles." Gibbs laughed. "Which of course is the truth."

"Anyways!" Anna said, loudly to get everyone's attention. "Asgeir, you seemed right at home at the helm on the Fury." She pulled something out of her shoulder bag, and placed it on my head. "You might as well look the part."

Then Matthew did something I had never really seen him do before. He gave a hearty and genuine laugh, as all the other Assassins clapped. I pulled what Anna had placed on my head, then grinning, put it right back.

She had taken the tricorne hat from the Captain I had shot overboard. And she was right. If I was indeed meant to sail the ship, I should definitely look the part of a pirate with a hat like that.


	10. Chapter 10: Thayer II

**A/N: Here's a really big day today in terms of history. Today marks 10 years since Assassin's Creed 2 came out. This was my gateway into the series, and I am honestly glad that it was Ezio, not Altair that led me into the battle against the Templars. Altair is great, but I think many of us can all agree that when it comes to Assassins, Ezio is the undisputed Mentor. I'm glad I was able to get in this single chapter to help celebrate the series, and keep an eye out on potentially a few more within the next week or so! :)**

* * *

Chapter 9: Thayer II

The body before me reeked. Maybe he might smell faintly of death to the others beside me, but to me, he smelt like he was rolled around in cow pies.

The three of us didn't say anything as the guard explained. The numbskulls that had been guarding this place had made the whole compound tight as a drum, and it still wasn't enough. As evidenced by the sight of Damien's mutilation.

"Explain it to me."

The guard stopped in mid sentence. "I… I'm sorry, sire?"

Hans glared at him. "Explain it to me. I am at a loss. You are telling me that you personally saw Damien leave the manor himself, and return to the ship with the gold, which is now unaccounted for?"

"Well… no sire." The guard said, nervously. "I'm among many guards who were there that night."

Hans stared at the guard for a moment. Knowing the kind of man he was, so keen on having people like me do his enforcement, I couldn't at least be a little shocked to see him grab the guard right by the neck, and press him down to his knees.

"Shhh." Hans snarled. "Sh. Sh. Don't stand up. If you do, Lord Thayer here will take your head off. Here is what is going to happen. We are going to do a little investigating of our own. If I see your face anywhere squealing for help in anything you did not remotely fuck up at, I'll have him do it slowly."

He let go of the guard's neck, adjusting the pure white gloves on his hands.

"Now then." Hans snapped. "What else happened?"

The guard hacked and coughed as I began to kneel down and look at the body.

"Sire? The rest of the guards will tell you that Sir Damien returned to the ship! I'm not the only one you should be abusing!"

"Enough." The king said. "I am talking about the aftermath. All our resources, all our men, and still, you tell me that we haven't tracked down Sir Damien's murderer?"

"No, sir!" The guard replied. "The only arrest the men have made was a drunk from the night after Damien's murder!"

The guard stopped shaking. Or at least, that was what I thought. As I kept examining the body, I saw that Hans had stopped manhandling the guard with such force.

General Tobias piped up.

"One drunk?" He said. "What did he do?"

"He…" The guard gulped, then looked up at Hans. "I wasn't there, Your Majesty. I can't speak for my colleagues."

"Take General Tobias." Hans ordered. "Find out who arrested the drunk, and then bring me to his cell. I want to question him myself."

The guard silently agreed, and then slunk out of the office with General Tobias following close behind.

I looked up. "You know whoever this drunk is, his information's worth less than the shit Drucilla made when we got here." I said.

"Bold statement from someone who hasn't even seen him." Hans took a seat at the desk as I began to take Damien's jacket off to examine the wounds. "Besides, this town has seen many arrests from the scum who can't accept my rule. This man being the only one arrested that night, something doesn't seem right."

"If he's been drinkin', he might as well tell us it was a fuckin' goblin that stabbed his fuckin' throat out." I replied. "That is a fact."

"We shall see." He said. "Any other facts to discern? Please take a look."

On that note, I pulled back the jacket, soon noticing that there was no need, as I easily saw the stab wounds. The five holes that had taken Damien's life had been put in his throat. The direction each wound pointed was different, which was enough to tell me that he was stabbed five times. Once in the back of the neck, and the rest in the front.

"Whoever killed him was lookin' to make him suffer." I said. "I can think of plenty of other places they could have stabbed 'im if they wanted to make it fatal."

I looked up at the window. "I'd be willin' to bet our culprit came in through that window." I pointed.

One of his hands was gloved. _One_ of them. The other was bare, and used to have a ring on the middle finger. Either torn or slid off, it had been removed. It was red, and scratched hard. A ring had definitely been there.

Hans also seemed to notice my examining of his fingers.

"His ring?"

"Removed." I replied.

"Check his pockets." Hans ordered.

Doing so, I immediately found what I was looking for. In the jacket pocket, Damien had a folded letter.

"Read it."

I did so, aloud knowing somehow that it wouldn't have any good news. I was right.

* * *

 _Sir Damien_

 _You have broken the deal we have struck. We both know that Hans is the last thing that Arendelle wants or needs. Only see how he has embarrassed King Elias with his paranoia and tight grip on the North to know you had made the right choice with me. No real king needs to treat his servants like prisoners if they are to respect him, or even view him as their true monarch._

 _We had both made the arrangements. I was to withhold financial backing for Hans to force him to rely on you more, and you were in turn supposed to tell my men where his money can be found. You failed to keep your end of the bargain._

 _You will regret it._

 _Signed_

 _Prince Fred._

* * *

Hans reached out his hand, clearly wanting the letter. When he took it from me, he spent a good few minutes looking it over.

"We have two things to take care of when we reach the Southern Isles."

"We're going there?" I asked. "Why?"

"I have a hunch, Lord Thayer." Hans replied. "But first we need to visit the drunk."

Hans and I left the compound taking my carriage. Two days ago we had received a raven ordering for immediate assistance. Sir Damien had been found dead within Lord Harding's own study, but Hans had ordered the body not to be touched. He needed to personally see it examined, as he now did not trust the people working within the village. I took the coastal route with Drucilla and my carriage, and Hans took his personal flagship where we met in this town. As we rode through the houses and shops to the fortress the drunk was being kept in, I could make out the massive hull of a wall being built right up against the town's borders.

"Dangerous people on the other side, Your Majesty?" I said, looking over at him and the seven riders escorting us.

"No." He replied. "Not entirely. This is about protection. I am keeping my people safe by keeping them in. They need not concern themselves with the places outside this kingdom."

I looked out at the street. Those brave enough to show their faces at the might we were showing this broken town looked on the verge of tears.

"Well done protecting." I said. "They seem very thankful."

Hans glared over at me. "They don't know the kind of monsters that will hunt them down with every fibre of their being."

"Aye." I replied. "I know fully well the kind of monsters you are talking about."

But I doubted Hans knew about hags and other kinds of freaks I hunted.

The fortress was formidable, almost looking either built right into the foundations of the wall, or the wall was built right around it. Though considering how tall the wall was above and around the prison, I would have chosen the latter.

"Lord Thayer and I are here for the prisoner." Hans snapped.

"Yes, My Liege." The guard at the gate replied. "Right this way."

Jumping from my seat on the carriage, I gave a look to the guard.

"Don't touch her." I shot back.

As we entered the prison, a guard at the booth to the door came over.

"King Hans. General Tobias came here just a few minutes ago."

"Where is he?" Hans ordered.

"He's uh… questioning the prisoner."

I looked over at him. "Why does a drunk warrant so much security?" I asked.

The guard looked at me with confusion. "He causes a one man riot the night after Sir Damien was found. We reckon he might know who killed him, or may have done it himself."

"And has he said anything since you brought him in?" Hans asked.

"No sir." He replied. "He's been quiet since arriving."

General Tobias was stepping out into the cell blocks as we came around the corner. So many cells, and yet no one was in there.

"He isn't saying anything to me, Your Majesty." General Tobias sighed. "Something tells me he has been waiting for you."

Hans didn't respond, only came right around the corner into the cell. I followed closely behind to watch the questioning.

The man before us had both his knees to the ground, and a clean bald head. As Hans walked in, he looked up to show me his big handlebar mustache.

"You appear to be waiting for me." Hans snapped. "What do you want?"

The man looked up at us, smiling.

"Lord Thayer. Crossbow."

I drew my bow as Hans knelt down, taking a dagger out. He reached behind the man, and undid the ropes binding his hands. Aiming it dead at the drunk's head, I glared into his eyes.

He didn't look drunk. Rather, he looked the part of a tavern keeper instead of a tavern drunk. Clean, but half drunk and even with a presence about I had seen in many nights spent in inns and taverns.

Hans suddenly grabbed his left hand, and held it up. As he looked at it, an inhumane grin spread across his face like a carved pumpkin. "Look here, Lord Thayer."

I leaned in closer to get a better look by the torchlight of the cell. The ring finger on this man appeared scarred or burned. Nothing I recognized, but I understood that Hans was expecting me to.

"What are we going to do with him, Your Majesty?"

Hans shook his head. "I am going to be taking him to the Southern Isles. I have a special place to lock up you and the rest of your scum addled band of Assassins."

The Assassins. Hans mentioned something about that a few days ago.

"And you…" Hans turned to me as he shoved the prisoner out of the cell, and into the arms of the guards, who began to drag the man off. He refused to even reply.

"Me?"

"I have a target for you." Hans snarled. "This man is an Assassin. They are anarchists and the greatest threat to my regime. I don't know who this man was, but I know that if Sir Damien was murdered, his ring taken off his corpse, and an Assassin suddenly causes a ruckus down at the docks, it means that they are here in this town." He paused. "Scratch that. They _were_ here."

" _Were_ here, sir?" I asked.

"I know their methods. I may not practice them, but I have studied them carefully. Our records on them are scarce, but I studied them all the same." Hans turned to the wall, glaring as though one of them was hiding behind the reinforced brick wall. "They wouldn't stick around this long after murdering one of my own. Regardless of how careful I planned this blockade around Molrum, I'm certain they made it past the wall somehow." He stopped, then turned around. "Their leader is a real murderer, and I need his death at my feet. His name is Asgeir Swortssen. Track him down, and bring me his head. You do that, and I will do whatever you wish within my power. Do this, and our regime as the greatest force this world has ever known will be cemented."

That was what it would take, and that was what I would promise. I gave a quick bow to Hans, king of thousands of people, but not of me.

"I find this Asgeir, I kill him, you give me what I need, and we are even, Your Majesty."

"Indeed." Hans said.

"Where do you suppose I start, then?" I asked.

"We are right on the edge of Corona's borders. If the Assassins wanted to find allies, they'd likely head for the City of Corona. I would start there."

"As you wish."

Hans then beckoned I follow him.

"You'll need something before you leave. This wall the prison is built into is meant to protect all the citizens of Arendelle. It's not meant to let anyone through, so you'll need the release from me."

Hans led me down the long, narrow hallway to a set of stairs that led up to the warden's office. He wasn't there, but as Hans took out a sheet of parchment at the desk, and began to scribble his official jargon and signature onto the scrap, I saw the man.

A window behind the desk had a perfect view of another cell block of the prison, where I could see various guards holding clubs, banging them against the bars of the cells. The man I presumed to be the warden was checking off items on a clipboard. As he did so, the guards were leading people out of the cells

"Where are they taking them?" I asked,

Hans turned and looked out the window, then halfheartedly kept writing his release orders.

"Sentencing to be carried out." He replied. "Those who try to escape this kingdom to danger must be punished."

His tone was enough to tell me what those people would be walked to, but I knew better than to delve deeper into this horror. I had to stay strong, and focused on my own quest; I'd save more lives that way.

"And you're sendin' me into the lands of our dangerous rivals?"

"I'm sending you because in the short amount of time that you have been accompanying me, you have already proven yourself indispensable, trustworthy, and able to withstand any sort of obstacles set forth before you. That's more that can be said with any of the rest of these fools."

Hans was right. I couldn't let anything stand in my way. People would die if I did.

"That in mind," Hans continued, "I doubt making your way across the Corona wilderness will be any trouble for you. Follow the trail that Asgeir has no doubt left behind, and then find out where he is or where he is going."

"And if I am unable to locate him in Corona?"

Hans grinned as he dripped wax onto the orders, preparing to press his seal into them.

"If you don't find him in Corona, I'm certain I know where he is going next. My brother Robert should be coming to the city within the next fortnight; diplomatic concerns with Queen Rapunzel. He will be carrying your next directives."

Silently, I took the orders from Hans as he finished sealing them closed.

"Go forth, Lord Thayer. And when you find Asgeir, be sure to make him suffer."

* * *

When I came out to the front of the prison, I saw the man Hans interrogated being shoved into a caged cart, which Hans would no doubt be accompanying to wherever he planned on taking the guy. Another guard led Drucilla, still attached to my own carriage around to the front.

"No one touched her, sire." He said, a little more nervously than I think he was intending.

"Hm." I murmured. "His Majesty the King is sendin' me south past the wall." I said, climbing up to the seat, and taking her reins. "Which way?"

He pointed further down the wall, which led into a large compound attached to the wall, guards along the top like wasps on a nest.

I clicked my tongue loudly, and Drucilla followed. Hans' signed document was already starting to feel warm in my hand with the amount I had been squeezing it since he gave it to me. Once I came up to the gate of the compound, a guard by the gate held up his rifle, and a hand.

"Hold! Who approaches?"

"It is I, Lord Thayer Dupree." I called out. "Attendant to your king, and personal hunter." I held up the document. "His Majesty is presently within the prison and is sendin' me south into Corona."

The guard approached and took the letter from me. Opening it, and peering at the orders Hans had written, in the bright light brought on by the many torches and lanterns around the gate, he read fairly quickly. When he reached the signature at the bottom of the document, he looked up at me, and silently handed it back over. His eyes were focused hard and narrow, but he didn't say anything in the negative as I came up to the gate, and it began to open.

This gate looked more like a massive metal panel, with no possible way to get onto the other side if it wasn't opening. Behind it laid another massive metal door, and I led my wagon inside.

Guards along a catwalk above me aimed their rifles down at me, trying to ensure I wasn't smuggling anything, or trying any other tricks. Despite the primitive tools at the disposal of Hans' army, his security seemed to be right on point.

The door behind me was about to close when I suddenly heard a strange sound. The guard outside that I had passed vomited, loudly and painful sounding.

"HOLD!" The guards above me ordered as the sick guard stumbled back to where I was, just beyond the door that was going to close.

"Erik, are you alright?!" One of them yelled down as the sick one came up beside me. "What did you slip him, freak?!" He aimed his rifle at me, forcing me to raise my hands.

The sick guard raised his own hand, propping himself up against my carriage.

"No, no." He wheezed. "He's alright. Sorry, it must have been that salted beef I had earlier. Been feeling like this all day." He coughed. "Let him through."

Sighing loudly, I clicked my tongue again to get Drucilla to move, as the barrier behind me lowered, and the one before me raised. From there, I saw a long metal hallway, which turned sharply left. The catwalks above me continued on, either side filled with guards, and either side with their guns already raised at me, waiting for me to make a move.

It was clear to me that these guards were on edge. Was this the first time someone had come through this way through the wall? The floor was flattened dirt, but there were no footprints or hoof prints. I wouldn't rule it out, that I could have been the first person to go through this way into the kingdom of Corona.

The hallway was long and twisted, turning this way and that. As I passed through, another guard keeled over, and vomited over the edge, barely missing my wagon as I came past. That act confused me for a second but then thought that there clearly had to be some sort of sickness in the rations they were given. An occupation like this in this kind of town, at this time of year, it was a wonder half of them were still standing if they were being given this kind of shite rations.

If the passage had been straight, I would have come out the other side within five minutes. But I understood as I made another turn that this place was full of dead ends, meant to confuse escapees, and box them in like rats. It was quite narrow for my carriage, but I kept making my way through, scraping against the wall a few times.

Presently, I finally came out to the passage on the other side, four guards standing at the ready for me. The lack of the door made me think that there might have been some kind of last-ditch trap set for me if anyone else was coming through the barrier.

"Halt!" One of the guards spoke. "We were notified that you were coming through, Lord Thayer."

"Aye," I replied. "And I would watch what you are all eatin'." I added. "Some of you bastards are pukin' up yer guts."

As if on queue, one of the other guards, who had been staring glassy-eyed at me, keeled right over and puked onto his shoes.

"Case in point." I sighed. "Get the poor lad some water."

"Will do." The guard said, eyeing his companion, who was now rocking back and forth on his heels. "King Hans gave special permission that your wagon is not to be searched, so I can safely assume there are no refugees in there?"

I nodded silently. "He's sent me for a job on this side of the border." I looked out, seeing nothing but flat fields beside the sea, the landscape now bumpy and jagged with fort pickets to keep intruders back. What looked to be at least a whole league south was lit up with spotlights and torches along the narrow dirt path my wagon now lay on.

I was about to have Drucilla head off when I smelled something. Something that stunk of sulfur and other deadly dark magicks.

Looking down at the guards, I only saw them looking back up at me, as though expecting me to head off without another word. Shrugging, I hit Drucilla's reins, and she took off, now thankful for the freedom of the open road we had missed for weeks.

I could feel every rifle of every guard on top of that wall behind us aiming right at us, but the fact that not a single shot was fired at us gave me comfort. I had Hans' favor, and while I wasn't expecting his special permission not to have my carriage searched, that meant that he was already showing immense value in having me as an ally. He might have even respected me. Too bad that I did not.

It could not have been any sooner for me to leave that bastard behind. A king that had to kill his own citizens to keep them within his borders was nothing more than a cowardly tyrant. Knowing that those runaways were off to being shot against the wall made me sick.

Drucilla appreciated the open road as much as I did. The dirt path was rocky and bumpy, but at the speed she galloped, it was clear that neither of us cared. The trees began to sprout up as we went further and further south, eventually becoming so numerous I could no longer see the water to my right.

It did come as a bit of a surprise though, when I saw someone at the side of the road, almost come right out of nowhere.

The poor light that had been steadily dissolving since passing the flat fields outside the wall and the rising of the trees around us made me nearly miss him. But before me stood a young man, unshaven dark hair and scruff around his cheeks. His eyes were sunken in, and… was that blood streaming down his nose?

He coughed. "Room for one moreb?" He asked, looking up at me, blood in his voice.

I looked down at him.

"What are you doing this close to Arendelle?" I asked.

He pointed the way I was going. "Badits, sirb." He gurgled. "Took my wagon and most of my ammo. I reckon they're taking what I rightfully killed to be sold in the next town from here."

It still confused me, considering that I had been riding fast for not even twenty minutes, and I was certain that no one of Corona would even dare come this close to the border based on what was happening.

"Why come this close?" I asked.

He shook his head, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I know the horrors that are happening in Arendelle. They've kept the smarter of us away. That means plenty of game to hunt for, with no one else out here."

I narrowed my eyes at him, looking hard at him. Quietly, I reached my thumb down to my belt, and slid the edge of my knife past the tip. Opening the lantern hanging on my wagon, I stuck the bloody thumb there on the wick of the candle, and muttered another spell. The lantern lit up, and I gave the fellow a hard look.

He seemed sincere with his words, especially when I realized he was seriously bleeding from his nose. Still, as I stared at him, I realized I was still smelling that odor of darkness. Sulfur and what you might think a shadow might smell like if you could comprehend such an idea.

"I juss neeb a ribe to the next townb." He moaned. "Please?"

I glared down at him, then rolled my eyes, and scooted to my left, leaving room for him to climb up beside me.

"Thank youb" He sighed. "I thought I wasn't going to last out heerb."

Wordlessly, I passed a handkerchief over to the man, who took it, and wiped his nose, clearing the blood from his chin, and the scruff around his lips.

"I'm Jerred." He said, reaching his free hand out, as Drucilla took off. It was covered in black tattoos shaped like random jagged lines and dots.

I took it, then muttered. "Thayer."

"Where are you coming from, Thayer?" He asked.

I looked out at the road. If this man intended to jump me, or his friends were out in the brush with their weapons drawn, this would be the perfect time to take me. But nothing happened, and Drucilla kept going on, through the thickening trees.

"Molrum." I replied.

Jerred stared over at me. "You're fucking with me." He said.

"Nay."

"Is it as bad as I'm hearing it is?" He asked.

"No." I shot back. "It's worse."

Jerred leaned back in his seat, looking up at the dark sky.

"What atrocities have these people committed to receiving such a monster as their jailer?" He asked.

To that, I was at a real loss to answer the question. These people were innocent, yet their new King showed cruelty unmatched by many. I had seen evil much like Hans, but the differences in these monsters and these beasts was that the souls who could see them could know the evil they ruminated. Not someone like Hans. He wore his false kindness like a cloak to the snow, and he wore it well enough to convince at least half of the kingdom that he was the one to protect them. Many of them believed the wall was being put up to keep bandits out. Fools.

Jerred barely spoke for the rest of the trip. I presumed it was because of his nosebleed, but even so I would have hoped for some form of conversation. I could see the next town over by the time he spoke, even more, several hours later.

"This town has a small port. Lunaris." He explained, his voice no longer choked with blood. "My friend has a ship here if you're looking for passage."

This caught my interest. My carriage being hauled onto a ship would result in a lot of questions, but it would also ensure that I would reach the City of Corona before Asgeir had a chance to escape. It might be worth a shot.

Jerred pointed us around the docks as we came up to the edge. Where I had seen no ships, only some rowboats and plenty of guards, this port seemed fairly packed for a small town's dock after dark.

"Why offer?"

Jerred gestured to Drucilla. "Don't know how long your horse has been riding this past fortnight, but I'm quite sure that she is exhausted. Wherever you're going, a ship would be good for her."

Drucilla was stumbling a bit, now that I began to think about it. I could see that even her trotting was slowing down, so I had to admit that her tiredness would mean to either take a rest or take a ship south to Corona. I knew the choice I would have to make.

"How did you know I'm going to Corona?" I then realized.

Jerred glanced at him. "You managed to get through the border somehow. If you're not heading as far south as south goes, I don't know what on earth you are doing."

I pulled the carriage up to the side of one of the buildings close to the water, and Jerred jumped out to walk over to a dock where a fairly sized ship was moored. The captain was a dark-skinned fellow, looking at a ledger, and it appeared as though Jerred knew who he was. They greeted each other as though they hadn't seen each other for ages, and then Jerred beckoned me over after they had a talk for a few minutes.

"Sam, this is Thayer." He explained. "He helped me get from the border back here to town, and he's looking for passage to the city."

Sam shrugged. "At this point, who isn't?" He looked at me, sizing me up, and coming up to me. "But why are you going there?"

"Same as everyone else," I said. "Trying to escape a kingdom as oppressed as theirs."

Not entirely untrue. I just needed to have this job done as soon as possible if I wanted what I came for.

"Right." He said. "Makes sense." And before I could react, he pulled out his pistol.

"Whoa!" Jerred yelled. "Sam, he's alright!"

"You sure about that?" He snapped. "Bjorn tells me no one has made it from Molrum since the occupation started, and you tell me that this guy managed to get past the wall?"

Suddenly, Jerred glared back at me, as though he was realizing this. Sam stepped forward, jamming the pistol's barrel right into my good eye socket. My scarred eye did not change my vision, but I knew I must look a terror to someone like him if all he could see of my eye was white and red.

"Are you working for the Southern Isles?" Sam snarled.

I stared right into his eyes with my scarred one. It had been a few months since I tried this, but this was now a do or die scenario.

"The shipments I have from inland inside my carriage were torn apart by the troops, but I have the papers that finally allowed them to let me through. It took all my money, several days of waiting in Molrum, and a meetin' with Lord Harkon. They told me to come back to Arendelle within the fortnight as a citizen of King Hans' kingdom, or be branded an enemy of the Crown. It's because of that that I am not comin' back to the North. Those feckin' devils can freeze in Arendelle for all I care."

I never broke eye contact with Sam as I spoke, and when I was finished, he pulled his gun away. His eyes were slightly glazed over, but even Jerred believed my bullshite.

Sam glanced over at my carriage. "Thinking a carnival banner would hide your contraband?" He asked, a little flatly toned.

"Aye." I replied. "But my carriage had to be searched like everyone else. It didn't do me much good."

"If you're coming from the North, your horse is likely exhausted. Our ship leaves at dawn for the City of Corona."

"Thanks." I replied. "We'll be there. Hiyah."

Drucilla trotted off, towing the carriage around the corner until I found a space behind a smaller building that appeared to be abandoned. A safe place to stop and rest for the night.

I found a well close by, got a bucket and filled it for the both of us, filling my flask before giving it to the old girl. Then I found some hay and carefully hand fed her, stroking her mane gently.

"You've been really good, love." I murmured. "We'll be taking a rest tomorrow."

Drucilla gently wickered her response as I felt the carriage suddenly lurch.

Groaning, I banged my fist against the carriage wall.

"Settle down back there!" I snarled. "I'll get to you in a minute."

I sighed, turning back to Drucilla, continuing to feed her.

"Aye, a good girl." I whispered, wondering where I was going to find a steak at this hour.


End file.
